


Varkensvriend

by vladamsandler



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Disturbing Themes, Enemies to Friends, Gen, M/M, Mental Instability, Weaponized Pachimari
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:35:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26990761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vladamsandler/pseuds/vladamsandler
Summary: Inspired by the team up between these two tanks during the Grand Finals. I’d like to think the tall boys would be friends. And maybe something more?Sigma is captured by Overwatch and makes an unexpected acquaintance during his inprisonment.
Relationships: Roadhog | Mako Rutledge/Sigma | Siebren de Kuiper
Comments: 24
Kudos: 61





	1. Chapter 1

“Keep it together...”

The alarm light blinks like a silent beat following a metronome. The muted song is interrupted by sounds of personnel frantically shuffling behind closed doors, shredding papers and wiping memory files.

Sigma drifts down the main base command central hallway. A melody follows the metronome. Hasn’t he heard this before?

He hums to ground himself to the present. This isn’t the time for drifting thoughts. Sometimes it feels like his own mind is a mutinous saboteur.

The pattern... He’s heard this song before, hasn’t he?

“Reyes! What in the fresh hell—“

“Kuiper! Guard the main elevator. I need to find Moira and Maximilian before we can evacuate.” Reaper loads his shotguns and holsters the weapons in his ridiculous leather costume.

“What about Sombra?”

“Let _me_ worry about Sombra. Get your ass out there! NOW!”

Sigma spins and clenches his fists. Hadn’t he earned enough degrees to be the one calling the shots by now? The metal cabinets in the room behind him slam to the floor as he turns the corner. By his calculations, his computers will have completed the dump onto his online encrypted deep drive by now and the base must be nearly evacuated of nonessentials. The infiltrators will only need a short distraction to provide Widowmaker time to get into position.

A deep boom shakes the walls and Sigma grasps a doorframe for balance. Dust floats down from the ceiling and someone screams in a distant section of the base.

Sigma surfaces at the helipad entrance bay, or, what’s left of it. Gunmen sweeping the lower catwalks shout warnings at him and point their rifles.

“Barrier activated!”

Sigma recalls a familiar melody in his head and harnesses the force acting upon the rubble around him. With a yell he swipes his hand through the air and flings a mound of cement chunks at the nearest assailant. They are crushed with a yelp and the gunman behind them is also knocked down.

Sigma summons his hyperspheres and launches them towards the criss-crossing suspension cables in the air. The cables snap and the entire system falters. This causes a cascade structural failure in the catwalks and a dozen more gunmen are dumped to the floor.

Pain explodes in Sigma’s shoulder and he’s flung forward. A skinny, singed man lands on the helipad and his uproarious giggling fills the air.

“Should’ve seen that one comin’, mate!”

This man looks nothing like the gunman on the catwalks. He’s half-naked, foreign, and rabid. Could he be a wildcard unleashed on the Talon forces? An operative gone mad?

Another explosion rocks his balance. “Just give me a moment to think! One moment!” Sigma manipulates the local continuum to create a miniature black hole, absorbing three more grenades from the random attacker’s launcher.

What organization is known for collecting strange operatives? Outliers of all societies? Superlative to eccentric and above? Weaponized freaks of nature like his very own commanding officer, Reaper.

Sigma glares at his cackling opponent as he projects his experimental barrier. “When will Overwatch learn to mind its own? When the remainder of society has crumbled? What more can they do to offend our scientific progress?”

“Get a grip, dag!”

Sigma sends the hyperspheres towards the cretin and knocks him off his feet.

“Crikey!”

“You are a blight on the advancement of our race!”

“Roadie! Crack it on ‘im!”

An enormous figure slowly overtakes the rubble and huffs, “Rack off,” in a deep, out-of-breath voice.

Sigma growls as he gathers more rubble to launch at the mountainous man, but loses the harness in shock as a sharp, metal hook snaps around his thin waist. The concrete falls the ground around him and he yelps as he’s hauled forward.

The large man’s hook chain jingles and Sigma is thrust up close and personal. He sees now the man’s face is obscured entirely by a gas mask haphazardly held together by old stitching and leaky valves. He is wearing nothing other than the mask, shoulder pads made out of tires and strapped across his chest, baggy pants, and thick black boots.

Sigma’s hyperspheres dance wildly around his head, interacting erratically with his projected magnetic field. He gasps in shock at the force put upon his body and at the unexpectedness of entering another’s personal space.

He hasn’t been this physically close to another person since he was nursed in a straight jacket.

The hook man laughs deeply. “Hi.”

“What are you doing? Shoot ‘em! Bag ‘em and tag ‘em! Let ‘er loose! Pig-stick ‘em!” the scrawny man babbles with excitement.

The pressure of the hook around his waist disappears and the huge man groans. “Shut up.”

Just when he thinks he’s in the clear, Sigma freezes again in shock as loud shotgun cracks explode so close to his face. He squints out of half-closed eyes to see his anti-grav emitters are destroyed. Gravity throws him to the ground roughly and Sigma gasps again. “The harness!”

He hears another gruff chuckle before he loses consciousness at the abrupt punch of the metal hook against his skull.

* * *

Sigma awakens in small bed wearing his working suit without the anti-gravity components. He knows he’s in a cell due to the sparce furnishings and the large square mirror on the wall opposite the bed. At least this prison had a window view of the ocean and a private bathroom.

Previously he’d been detained with straps and a bedpan wedged underneath him.

Sigma gets up from the bed and leans on straight arms at the windowsill. The crashing waves below ebb and flow like an old song...

Wisps of melodic memory slip away with a shiver as he notices the chill of a cool floor on his bare feet. It was a sensation he wasn’t recently familiar with.

“Siebren de Kuiper. You have been detained as an accomplice to the war crimes of Talon. Your work has contributed to the oppression and suffering of many people.”

“Lectured by a talking ape. This world holds many a wonder to those who seek answers to our mysterious existance, it seems.” Sigma doesn’t move from the window. He recognizes the formal reprimand of the acting commander of the recalled organization known as Overwatch. “Tell me, doctor, do you miss the gentleness of the moon’s gravity? You must weigh a ton here.”

The voice from the window continues, but fails to mask its annoyance with strict apathy. “You will remain in this cell until you choose to provide us with information,” it growls. “Until then, enjoy your solitude.”

“Well, I’m trying.”

Sigma hears a door slam behind the mirror and sighs. How many hours, days, years, of his life will be wittled away in a cage? The taste of freedom he’d had within Talon was like a puff of fresh air to a suffocated man. All he wants is his work to flourish as it is naturally inclined. There is an end to it, he is merely traversing its discovery. With enough time and attention, the universe’s song will crescendo.

He is merely the instrument.

* * *

Days pass like a circle. Time moves around him, but Sigma’s world inside his cell remain still, and quiet. He hums music to himself and watches the sunsets over the ocean to keep himself occupied. He also occasionally works through equations in his head, but it frustrates him to be unable to write anything down.

A knock sounds at the door. “Dr. Kuiper?”

“Present...” Sigma grumbles.

A pristine woman enters with the usual tray of a meager meal. A small sandwich, a fruit cup, crackers, and a fresh pitcher of water. She places the tray on the bed and exchanges the pitchers on the small fold-out sidetable.

“Are you ready to talk?”

Sigma turns and leans against the wall with folded arms. “He’s not going to let me leave. My reward for divulgence is release from this cell, not freedom.” He taps his fingers on his arm.

“Winston is not cruel, and Gibraltar is not a penitentiary.”

“Oh, have _mercy_ ,” he mocks as he rolls his eyes and turns around again.

“If there’s anything you need,” her voice is hard as she grits out the nicety, “please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“A whiteboard. And books. Otherwise I’m going to lose my mind before any of you can pick it.”

The door clicks shut behind him without a response and he hears the deadbolt slide back into place.

He hums quietly aloud the crescendo to his favorite song. It whispers to him like a memory of a dream.


	2. Chapter 2

Sigma closes his eyes and breathes out slowly. A soft tune lilts in his mind, and he follows the melody of it.

It sounds really familiar...

He lets that thought float away and takes another deep breath. Once he feels the calmness that comes with the lower meditative state he’s been practicing, he slowly opens his eyes.

He rereads his scrawl on the whiteboard they provided him and allows himself to stroll down all the well-worn avenues of possibilities again. He must be missing something. He closes his eyes again and sighs.

Sigma senses the weight of his body and the pull gravity is attempting to apply to it. It doesn’t take much for him to manipulate and override that force, but it does require at least part of his concentration. He lets thoughts of his theories and equations slip away for now and tries to maintain the height of his levitation over his bed while also manipulating the force of gravity on another object.

A book on the window sill topples upward slowly and then wiggles through the air before coming to rest on his side table. Then, he focuses on the pitcher of water. His influence causes small waves initially. This has been his favorite challenge of late, even over his most difficult scientific problems. Separating the gravity force acting upon the pitcher itself and the water inside is like his own personal Rubix cube.

A snake of fluid begins to shimmy upwards, peeking out of the tip of the pitcher. It breaks into bubbles that fluctuate within their surface tensions. The water floats upwards and dances around itself. Sigma begins humming aloud.

“Cool.”

The voice behind the mirror abruptly announces a presence and Sigma’s concentration is broken as he startles. The water falls to the floor immediately, submitting to the dominating force of gravity. Sigma also is dropped onto the bed and nearly rolls to the floor

_“Tering!”_

He puts a foot on the floor for balance and his sock immediately soaks in the misplaced water.

_“Godverdomme!”_

“Sorry.”

Sigma ignores the unseen eye for the moment and stalks to the bathroom. He throws the hand towel on the floor in the bedroom and strips his wet socks.

“Is this part of my punishment? No privacy?”

The person behind the mirror doesn’t respond.

“Show yourself!” he demands. “At least allow me the dignity of seeing who I am speaking to.”

After a moment, the reflective obscurity in the mirror is dismissed and the glass becomes transparent.

“Hi.”

Sigma’s company is the same man who knocked him unconscious with a huge hook back at the Talon base. The dark eye pieces of his mask stare blankly.

“What do you want?”

The man doesn’t respond.

“I don’t need to be guarded. It’s not possible to escape from this cell, I’ve inspected it. And there’s nothing in here I can use to harm myself.”

The man looks around, as if inspecting the room himself.

“So, you can _leave_.”

“What’s that?”

Sigma glances at the whiteboard, where the man gestured, and hesitates to answer. He’s been prudent not to write anything down from his research that could jeopardize the secrecy of his findings.

“A dry erase board,” he responds with impudence.

The man simply crosses his arms.

Sigma walks up in front of the mirror and crosses his arms as well.

“Equations to assist in my work. Gravitational potential gradient and field, torque potential energy, orbital energy, assorted weak-field relativistic equations, et cetera.” He turns to look at the board as he speaks. He doesn’t bother explaining the more complex mathematical theories he’s working through or that some of the writing on the board is in his own personal symbol code. “My work keeps me occupied. The mind cannot be contained inside a cell.”

The man doesn’t add anything. He doesn’t seem to be the talkative type, for which Sigma is secretly grateful.

The wind picks up outside and whistles against the window. Sigma quirks his head and is immediately lost in a distant, fuzzy memory.

“Can you hear that music...?”

The man outside the cell tilts his head to the side curiously. “No.”

Sigma closes his eyes, desperate to recall the tune. “What...” He paces slowly, absentmindedly, and moves his hands in the air as if to capture the song like a conductor. Suddenly he opens his eyes and whirls.

“This is a trick, isn’t it? All of this, this isn’t real. I’m still on the Talon base. This view is cinemated. There’s something in the water... What have you put in my water?” Sigma feels panic rising in his chest. What if he never left the hospital? He could be imagining all of this, still strapped to a bed somewhere.

Has he lost his mind?

Sigma backs away towards the bathroom door. “Why are you here? What are you trying to get out of me? Is it my work? I don’t _know_ the solutions to these problems! I can’t explain how I can do this!” He reapplies force to the book on the table and it flies into the wall harshly before falling to the floor.

“No,” is all the man says. The obscurity returns to the glass and Sigma is left looking at his wide-eyed reflection.

He retreats to the bathroom and closes the door.

* * *

Later that evening, after much meditation and a fitful nap, Sigma sits on the edge of his bed and stares at his chalkboard with a blank expression. He ignores the graceful changing of colors in the sky as dusk creeps in.

A knock at the door precedes Mercy’s entrance. Her tray holds a warm bun and a container of hot stew tonight. She crosses in front of him to leave the tray on the table and retrieves the empty one from lunch.

She pauses and stares for a moment, concern flitting across her features.

“Roadhog asked me to give this to you.” She pulls a small digital book from her pocket and hands it to him. The screen reads _Of Mice and Men_ , a particularly old novel Sigma’s never heard of before. “How do you know each other?”

Sigma takes the book and stares dumbly at it. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”

Mercy purses her lips. “I don’t suppose you have any information I may pass on to my superiors?”

She doesn’t receive a response.

“Very well.”

Sigma ignores her departure and continues to inspect the book. He lays down on the bed and starts reading it as the wind blows outside. Waves thrash against the shore and sunlight dims until Sigma’s room is illuminated only by the soft yellow touch light in the wall above his bed.

The story takes him away from this place and eases his mind for the remainder of the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That awkward moment when the first chapter of your story already has a plot hole that needs to be patched.


	3. Chapter 3

Sigma writes on the whiteboard, pauses to erase with the side of his palm, and then continues to write again. He’s following a lead on a theory that he was able to come to after only a couple days of meditation— one good thing that has come out of his inprisonment thus far.

Nothing bad has happened to him since he arrived to Gibraltar. In fact, besides the sparcity of space and furnishings, he’s been more comfortable and more productive here than he ever was at the Talon base. It’s almost as if the lack of distractions has been the boon he needed to progress his research.

If his comfort here has provided for any source of frustration for the superiors of Overwatch, who are keeping him only for information on Talon with which he has been thus far unforthcoming, it has not shown. He is relatively undisturbed. Mercy brings him water and meals, and answers any of his questions honestly.

He regrets his negative suspicions of his keepers’ motivations considering how immediately accommodating they were to his requests.

He could almost say... he’s beginning to trust them.

“Hey.”

A gruff voice greets him from behind the mirror. Sigma sets down his pen and rubs stray inkstains on his hands as he approaches it.

“Hello.”

A pause, which unsurprises Sigma. This visitor is not a man of many words.

“I finished your book recommendation. Roadhog, I presume?”

The man grunts in affirmative.

“I didn’t like it. It was vulgar and insensitive.”

Roadhog shrugs audibly.

“But... thank you. It helped take my mind off things.”

He doesn’t receive a response to that.

“Your loud friend reminded me of George. Wiry and devious.”

Roadhog chuckles. “I’m Lennie?”

“No! No, that would be an insult. Well, I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with the mentally impaired. You just share a similar stature, I guess.”

Roadhog grunts again.

“Why are you attached to the pyromaniac anyway? He’s seems like nothing but a detriment to one’s personal safety.”

“‘A guy goes nuts if he ain’t got anybody.’”

“Ah.” Sigma recognizes the quote from the book. “Yes, I suppose.” He considers his solitude and how the hours seem to slip away from his memory at times. And that infernal tune... He clears his throat.

“What do you want with me? Mercy asked how we know each other... but I don’t know you.”

“I’unno. Nothing.”

“Winston sent you. Make friends, earn trust, then weasel the information out of me that he wants, yes?”

“No.”

Sigma frowns, perplexed. “Who are you then? What’s your real name?”

“What’s yours?” Roadhog challenges.

“...Dr. Siebren de Kuiper.”

“Mako.”

Sigma remains suspicious, but supposes a man this size could’ve forced the information out of him by now if he really wanted to. “Well met, Mako.”

Roadhog grunts in agreement.

* * *

He doesn’t go out of his way to keep track, but he supposes he’s spent at least a month in this room by now. It was infuriatingly boring to be confined to the space, but now he’s beginning to feel used to his routine. He feels safe in this room.

He learns that Winston the talking ape isn’t the only commanding figure of the new Overwatch. A gruff older man stops by one day to ask him questions and answer some of his.

He likes this soldier-man. He is succinct and authoritative. Sigma senses the man doesn’t particularly despise him either, and understands his lack of undying loyalty to Talon, despite everything they’d done for him. He simply believes in their cause.

“You must know Reyes.”

Soldier doesn’t give anything away in his expression. “Yes, I knew him.”

“A ridiculous man. Haughty.” Sigma shakes his head. “His potential for true leadership is spoiled by his delusions of grandeur and lack of patience.”

“That seemed to be the conclusions of my superiors when I was selected as the first commander over him.”

Sigma watches the soldier’s body language with interest through the mirror made transparent. “You two have a history.” It wasn’t a question.

“We just need to know Talon’s plans. What’s their next move?” Soldier blatantly ignores Sigma’s statement.

“I don’t know. All I was to them was another egghead who could provide exclusive scientific research. I was only useful in that I could defend myself in a fight.”

“Do you know where Reaper could be now?”

“Talon has several boltholes around the world. It is by design their operatives are unaware of all of them.”

Soldier’s next inquiry is interrupted by the door.

“Oh, Jack, _entschuldigung_.”

“What’s going on, Angela?” Soldier asks, noticing her company and lack of routine food tray for Sigma.

The small space behind the mirror becomes crowded as Roadhog enters the room behind her. “Hey.”

“Um... Roadhog and I baked minimuffins.” She proffers the still-warm tin in her mitted hands.

Sigma suppresses a chuckle at the juxtaposition of the situation with Soldier’s solemnity and nods at Roadhog’s small wave.

“Is there anything more you wish to discuss, commander?”

“Yes, but...”

“Another time, perhaps,” Sigma smiles cordially. It’s always enjoyable for him to see strict authority undermined.

“Apologies,” Mercy offers meekly.

“Very well,” Soldier acquiesces. He sidles awkwardly against the window to move around the others to the door.

“Oh, Jack,” Mercy interjects. “Winston approved a walkabout today...” She side-eyes Sigma slyly. “Is that alright with you? He said you’d have to be okay with it.”

Soldier pauses, thinking. “I guess. Athena must know where you are at all times,” he commands begrudgingly.

“Okay,” Roadhog grunts.

“ _Natürlich_."

With that, Soldier exits and Mercy smiles at Sigma.

They’d become much more familiar in the last couple of weeks. He could even say he’s become somewhat fond of his caretaker.

“Field trip?” Sigma asks with a tone of good humor.

“Field trip,” Mercy nods in affirmation.

Roadhog simply gives a thumbs up.


	4. Chapter 4

Since he’d been walking around inside his cell with bare feet, he was provided with a pair of plain slip-on shoes before he was finally released from his confines. They’re a little small, but useable. It felt weird to wear shoes again after so long without.

Sigma was delighted they had decided to reward him with this taste of fresh air. Mercy explained he needed at least some sort of exercise as she and Roadhog led him through the hallways of Watchpoint Gibraltar, but it just seemed like an excuse. Sigma didn’t mind.

He takes everything in as they walk, privately memorizing their path and possible exits for worst case scenarios. It’s become a habit since he’s so used to being held captive.

The best part of the tour is the outside walkways facing the ocean. He has to stop and close his eyes when the cool air blows across his face. The sun is warm and he can see ships slowing moving through the strait in the distance. It’s really quite beautiful.

“What did I do to deserve this special treatment?” He smiles at his company.

“Good behavior,” Roadhog grunts. Sigma isn’t sure if he’s being serious or not.

“We’re going to be late!” Mercy tuts.

“Late?”

They lead him back into a building, down some stairs, and into a quiet, lounge-like space. There are couches and armchairs positioned around coffee tables and a couple TVs. One wall is entirely glass windows, so the ocean view remains.

“Mei! We brought muffins.” Mercy carries the now cool tin over to a coffee table set up with teacups and an old clay kettle.

“Awesome! Tea is ready.” A lovely asian woman greets them cheerfully.

“This is Dr. Kuiper.”

“Sigma, please.” He extends his hand politely. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Dr. Zhou.”

“You know me?” Mei looks up at him in wonder as she shakes his hand.

“I’m familiar with your environmental work. Ecopoint: Antarctica churned out some impressively large amounts of data back in the day! I felt like I read about your team in a new journal every week.”

“Wow, I didn’t even know about that! They really were a great team...” Her tone becomes solemn as she trails off in thought.

“I hope you like tea,” Mercy says quickly to change the subject. "The muffins turned out great."

“What flavor?” Mei asks.

“Cinnamon,” Roadhog responds in his deep voice.

Everyone gets comfortable on the seating around the coffee table and share the muffins and tea. Sigma almost feels ridiculous, attending an actual tea party, and wonders what Reaper would make of this scene. He can just imagine the biting remarks. But despite that, he’s enjoying himself. He feels civilized again.

When it cools, Sigma is surprised by how good the jasmine tea is. He hums as he sips to indicate his approval. Mei smiles at him.

Roadhog reveals his chin as he pushes up his mask to partake as well. The eye pieces misalign when he does this, and Mei and Mercy are caught up in conversation, so Sigma goes unnoticed as he watches curiously.

Roadhog has white stubble and a strong, defined jaw. He eats the muffins whole and finishes his cup of tea in two gulps before replacing the mask.

“What is that for, if I may ask?” Sigma gestures to his face. “Your mask.”

“Helps me.” Roadhog shrugs.

Mercy explains, “Roadhog uses hogdrogen inhalers to counteract the side effects of his radiation exposure from when he lived in Australia.”

“People still live in Australia?” Sigma asks in bewilderment.

Roadhog sets his teacup down and sighs. “Yeah.”

As if on cue, the other Australian Overwatch agent makes a grand entrance.

“Roadhog! I’ve been all ova' the base lookin’ for ya! What’s this? Tea an’ crumpets?”

Roadhog drops his head and groans.

The wiry man helps himself to a handful of muffins to Mercy’s dismay and then suggestively winks at Mei as he chews. She glares at him.

“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of a proper introduction,” Sigma offers. He stands to shake the man’s hand, but only receives a quirked burnt eyebrow.

“Aye, Pigface, the dag from before, innit?” He looks at Roadhog expectantly, but his compatriot simply crosses his arms.

Sigma stands tall and looks down at the unexpected guest. “Yes, the man who required you backup to take down.”

The man squints. “Challenging me to a scuffy, are ya’ mate?” He holds up his fists as if he’s prepared to start swinging right over the coffee table.

Sigma crosses his arms. “No bombs, no antigravity? Where’s the fun in that?”

After a pause, the man cracks a wide smile. “Right on, mate! Junkrat ‘ere.” He clasps Sigma’s shoulder amiably.

“Do you mind?” Mei asks impatiently.

Junkrat ignores her. “Roadie, remember that thing... I told you about?" He wrings his hands and laugh nervously.

"You didn't."

"Well I didn't _mean_ to."

Roadhog groans, "Sorry," and then leaves with Junkrat, both muttering furiously as they rush out.

Sigma feels awkward and out of place now for some reason. Suddenly lonely, despite his company. He tries to remember a familiar melody to comfort himself, but it doesn't entirely come to him.

"So, doctor, what will it take to convince you to join Overwatch R&D?" Mercy asks. She crosses her legs and smiles playfully.

Sigma scoffs. "My work is my work, regardless of who funds it. I answer to no one." He hopes he never has to report to Reaper ever again, whereever he ends up.

"Overwatch is very hands off. I think you'd be surprised."

"Oh, trust me. I've heard everything I need to know from Dr. O'Deorain." Sigma gives Mercy a challenging smile. Her expression darkens at the mention of her rival.

"Who?" Mei asks innocently.

"A world-renowned genetic engineer currently working for Talon," Sigma answers. "And an old friend of your dear Mercy here, if I'm not mistaken."

Mei looks at Mercy expectantly.

"Moira's work is nothing more than a collection of crimes against humanity and an affront to the dignity of biological sciences."

Sigma leans back in his seat, rests his foot on his knee, and clasps his hands, one elbow resting on the back of the couch. "She's had as much to say about you, my dear." He chuckles. "Why does it feel like the feud between our organizations is built on soured relationships? Can't you all just kiss and make up?"

"I haven't the faintest idea of what you're talking about."

"You have the same expression as Mr. Soldier when I mention Mr. Reaper." He points at her and wiggles his finger. "It's like the jaded lovers club!"

Mei sets her teacup down on it's saucer with a soft clink. She keeps her eyes lowered, trying to politely remain impartial to the discussion.

"I think that's quite enough."

"No, I'm sorry, you're right. The real difference between Talon and Overwatch is that the Talon leaders don't kid themselves into trying to affect change in the world through unregulated vigilantism."

"Dr. Kuiper, you seem to be eager to return to your room. It's a pity, we were all having such a nice time." Mercy's eyes are squinted slightly. She's clearly losing her patience with his egging.

Sigma feels guilty suddenly. He truly doesn't want to return to the cell. Why does he always become so offensive when he's nervous?

"Well, it was a pleasure, Dr. Zhou."

"Okay," Mei responds lamely, unsure of how to respond without upsetting Mercy more.

"Thank you, Mei. The tea was lovely."

Mercy leads Sigma back to his room silently. As he follows her, he wonders how difficult it would be to overpower her and escape. He doesn't have the motivation to act on these musings, however. He feels deflated and numb.

Returning the shoes is the nail in the coffin. He sits on his bed once he's alone again and stares at his bare feet. He feels embarrassed and undignified again, like a child in time out. 

Grey clouds overtake the sky slowly and blot out the sun at dusk. Light fades unceremoniously without a blazing sunset to accompany and Sigma finds himself in bed early, hands clasped over his stomach as he stares at the ceiling with boredom. Sleep won't rescue him soon enough.

He thinks about the time he's spent here at Gibraltar and the time he spent at the underground Talon base. The depressing realization he comes to is that he's had as much freedom here as he did there. Permissions were different, but at least here he's treated with respect.

He understands now that the freedom he seeks is to be seen as a human being, not a thing to be utilized.

Sometime later he supposes he's drifted off a bit because a soft rattling rouses him. He listens through the sound of rain at the window for the source of the strange noise.

Suddenly the door clicks open as if by its own accord.


	5. Chapter 5

Sigma waits and listens. No other sounds can be heard from the other side of the door. The rain outside taps incessantly on the window like a quick song. It sounds in sync with the beat of his heart, but he tries to ignore the melody.

"Who's there?"

He gets no response from the darkness between the door and its frame.

Sigma swings his legs off the side of the bed and stands on the cool cement floor. His feet will certainly be cold if he carries out what his mind is urging him to do.

He opens the door and peers into the small room behind the mirror. There is no one there, so the door must have opened by itself.

No, inanimate objects cannot do that. He ignores fleeting questions of his rationality in the back of his mind, there because he knows he's not dreaming.

Fortunately, a light catches his eye and reassures him. The touch panel that controls the opacity of the mirror window has a small blinking purple light. The screen flickers to life when it senses him standing in front of it.

" _Hola!_ Athena has been put to sleep, but it won't last all night. Doors are unlocked and cameras are off. _Andele, amigo!_ Your escort will be waiting outside the perimeter."

Sombra of all people speaks from the panel. It sounds like a recording, and doesn't wait for a response before the light shuts off and Sigma is in darkness again.

His feet move without much thought. He feels along the walls in the spaces without enough light to see and thanks his lucky stars for the precautionary mental mapping from the day previous. Sigma braces himself before exiting the building onto the outside walkways. The overhanging rock shields most of the rain directly, but the ground is still wet from the water blown inland.

It doesn't take long for his clothes to drench and he wrings his hands to generate warmth. His toes are already numb.

Where is he going? He knows how to get to the lounge and that's pretty much it. Is he really leaving Gibraltar tonight? It feels... anticlimactic. There's more to his story here, isn't there?

Sigma continues to sneak past windows and peek corners for signs of life in the darkness. He's just guessing as to the correct direction now. He has a moment of reprieve from the rain when he enters a large indoor shuttle bay. He shakes water out of his thin hair with his hand and attempts to squeeze as much moisture out of his shirt as he can. His teeth are chattering now.

He allows himself to slow down inside before braving the weather again. A huge ship looms above him, a silent mass perching in the shadows. There are storage crates and boxes covered in tarp lying around haphazardly that he must be careful to step around. At the back of the shuttlebay, he finds a small room next to the enormous bay doors. He wanders inside and finds it contains a large motorcycle that catches his eye. It looks out of place, and slightly familiar in a way.

He steps closer to examine it and sees it's been constructed out of scrap metal and junk parts. This must belong to either Junkrat or Roadhog, especially considering the burn marks and bullet holes. He touches the handle absentmindedly.

He doesn't really want to leave this place, does he? Where will he go? Back to Talon?

He doesn't have anyone there. No one there speaks to him just to have a conversation, much less even meet his eye, except when Reaper is barking at him or when Widowmaker looks down her nose at him with scorn.

No one's ever recommended him a book there, or baked him muffins.

He sits on the motorcycle seat and holds his head in his hands. Does he really wish to remain a prisoner here, untrusted and watched constantly?

Sigma breathes in deeply and then sighs. He closes his eyes and hums to ground himself.

He has to go. There is someone waiting outside the watchpoint to take him back to where he belongs. This is the right thing to do.

Before he can make a move, the door on the other end of the room swings open and he nearly falls to the floor in shock as a crack of lightning booms at the same time.

"Hey!" a deep voice barks at him.

Sigma upends a toolcart with unconscious influence on its gravity harness and backs away from the large figure. The person is clearly holding a gun.

"I'm unarmed," he yelps as the person stomps over the spilled tools. They pull on a chain lamp mounted over a workbench and the room is illuminated.

"Siebren," Roadhog remarks in shock. He lowers his scrap gun immediately.

Sigma grasps a metal shelf and tries to catch his breath. "Oh, it's just you. How did you know I was here?"

Roadhog holds up a blinking light attached to a pair of keys. "My bike."

Of course, Sombra's infiltration wouldn't affect Roadhog's personal security system.

"I wasn't trying to steal it, I just happened upon it." Sigma shivers, feeling small and caught out.

"What's going on?" Roadhog asks warily. He sets his gun down and fetches a clean rag. "You're leaving?"

Sigma accepts the small towel and rubs his hair a little more dry. "Yes. I don't know." He shuts his eyes at the embarrassment of indecision. "I've been provided with an escort, they're waiting outside the watchpoint perimeter for me."

Roadhog sits down on a stool, but doesn't remark on Sigma's words. "Are you okay?"

Sigma is taken aback by the question. "I'm... cold." His voice waivers mutinously and he bows his head to hide his wince. He wasn't sure how to interpret the random question, but feels that his response was inadequate.

"Don't go back to Talon. We need you here."

Roadhog's gentle frankness touches Sigma. "As a prisoner? I have no freedom here, Mako." He holds his arms to contain his pathetic shivering. What dignity he had left is surely dissipated. He must look like a drowned cat.

"They will learn to trust." Roadhog pauses. "I want you to stay."

Sigma feels more unsure of his departure than he ever did before. What he knows for certain, however, is if he returns to Talon, his friendship with Mako will be unmaintainable. He may even end up in a fight against him again someday. He finds the thought of this unacceptable.

"Alright. I'll stay."

"Good." Roadhog stands and gestures. "Come on."

Sigma follows him out of the bay garage and into another building. It feels like a living space with the more numerous bathrooms, random lounge spaces, and thankfully carpeted floor.

Roadhog leads them back to what Sigma presumes is his own private living space. It's in an older part of the building and the area outside it is crowded with piles of junk metal. Roadhog's neighbor is clear from the patches of scorched carpet and walls leading up to the next door down.

Inside, it is surprisingly spacious. Sigma feels a tinge of jealousy for a moment. There are a couple empty plastic boba tea cups lying around, but these are outnumbered by hogdrogen canisters lining the tables and piled in crates. If Roadhog feels bashful at all for the state of the space, it doesn't show.

The main room has a huge couch and a kitchenette in the corner. An old TV sits on the floor, leaning against the far wall. Some obsolete console and two controllers are tangled together next to it. A short hallway leads to a closed door (probably the bedroom) and a huge bathroom at the end. Sigma follows the denizen this direction.

They both stand comfortably in the wide space and it is clearly kept tidier and cleaner than the rest of Roadhog's quarters. The main eyecatcher is the tub. It is a fancy jacuzzi design rounding out a whole corner. The back wall is thick, transparent tile illuminated by soft glowing light panels to provide the illusion of sunlight behind it. The panels are tuned dimly, casting the bathroom in a cozy indigo glow.

Roadhog wraps a huge towel around Sigma while he appreciates the design of the space. The towel is twice the size of a large beach towel, and more like a white, fluffy blanket. He immediately pulls it tight over his shoulders in relief.

He turns to smile gratefully at Roadhog, but the man is already walking back down the hallway. Sigma listens to him dig around in some closet before returning with a twin sized spring mattress. He tosses the entire thing into the tub, and it nearly entirely fits in the giant thing.

"Guest room," Roadhog deadpans.

Not wanting to be reject his hospitality, nor return to his cell, Sigma carefully steps one foot in to the tub after another and reclines on the mattress. It actually curves comfortably for his back, although he isn't able to entirely stretch out his legs. "Thanks," he adds after a moment as he wraps the towel-blanket around his cold, wet pants. He's careful not to leave any open contact between his wet clothes and the unprotected mattress.

Roadhog saunters out of the room again and Sigma takes a moment to appreciate the clean smell of soap and the scent of a candle on the counter. He sighs and closes his eyes as he leans his head back. He really is quite tired. Tired enough to probably sleep just fine on this makeshift bed.

His drying hair blows around as a huge, thick blanket is dropped on him with a _womp_. His eyes fly open and he takes stock of the surprisingly heavy weight of the dark blue mass.

"Don't turn on the water," Roadhog chuckles, holding up a plug attached to the blanket by a cord. He plugs it in a socket in the wall and the blanket starts to warm up.

"Ohhh..." Sigma sighs and relaxes again. "This is perfect."

To top it all off, Roadhog returns again and dumps a dozen round pillows in the into the tub as well, which actually do a decent job of protecting Sigma's lanky knees and elbows from banging against the walls. They appear to be plush toys in the shape of an onion character, and they make a squeaky wheezing sound when pressed. Sigma doesn't bother to question why Roadhog has so many of them.

"Tap water's good to drink." Roadhog stands awkwardly in the doorway as Sigma melts into the warmth of the tub nest. He jabs a thumb over his shoulder. "In there if you need me. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Sigma responds quietly as Roadhog turns to leave. He closes the door mostly, but leaves it cracked at the frame.

Sigma stares at the shadow in that space and remembers how differently he felt when he knew he was totally alone staring at the same sliver of darkness outside his cell. Despite the unconventional furnishings, he's never felt so comfortable before falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, next chapter is going to be kind of dark and just generally intense. Warning for those who were seduced by the cozy fluff.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the updated rating and archive warnings.

This is it. The culmination of his life's work. Months of long hours of slaving away in his laboratory in The Hague have finally paid off. He's about the change the world.

_"Attention, Dr. Kuiper. Energy readings are fluctuating beyond recommended parameters. Confirmation required to proceed."_

"Yes, yes. It's fine," he lies, wishing he could tear the earpiece out. He doesn't need any help from anyone who hadn't calculated this a hundred times like he has. The simulations are burned in his brain from repetition. He could complete this experiment with his eyes closed by now. "Initiate mass-density conversion generators. Bypass the spike suppressor protocols."

_"Confirm bypass, please. Are you sure, doctor?"_

"Yes! I'm sure! For fuck's sake," Dr. Kuiper snaps. He's waited far too long for this to be delayed by overly cautious safety regulations. Fortunately he's the highest in command on this mission, so he can conduct this experiment as he likes.

"Aligning reactor prism." Dr. Kuiper gently moves the capture sensitivity ring around the harness coils and senses the magnetism building inside the chamber. It makes his teeth hurt.

_"—spiking—radiatio—ctor kuip—can you—eadings overlo—ABOR—"_

Dr. Kuiper tunes out the distance voice buzzing in his ear. The static distorts the message until it's unintelligible anyway.

All his attention is on a pinprick of space at the pinnacle of the prism. The air particles shiver and crack there, very minutely, and Dr. Kuiper registers distantly all the hair on his body standing up.

It's happening.

The pinprick grows to a black dot. It shivers under his watchful eye. He is in rapture of the moment, hands held delicately in the air around the outside of the coils, as if the slightest movement could disturb the phenomenon.

His chest starts to ache as he holds his breath. Whisps of plasma lash out from the growing void and he begins to feel its pull.

His last rational emotion is pride.

Then, his skull splits.

_His world is black. In the darkness, he hears the faint, echoing lilt of a piano chord. It plays a short tune._

_What is that melody?_

Screaming. Everything is on fire. He sees with one eye, the other half of his body staring back at him through the other. Reality bends and warps his body around the black hole and the plasma whips out at him violently.

_Can you hear that music?_

Dr. Kuiper hears himself screaming, but no air leaves his lungs. He feels strapped down, but watches pieces of his station laboratory float around him. The stars blink at him from the void of space. He twitches at the thought of how fast his body must've frozen from exposure. He cannot mentally conceive of his own death at the moment. It takes all of his concentration to simply determine if he's looking at a ceiling right now or the inky black eye that was watching him when his body was ripped apart.

The piano plays on. It loops in the distance for hours, days, weeks, months. He's lost track by now. The melody is burned into his brain, forever circling him, whispering to him, teasing him.

_What is that melody?_

He hears voices, but cannot understand the words. His eyes loll in their sockets and his fingers twitch in reflexive response to physical stimuli. Nothing registers, though. It's just the same song, over and over... Time swirls around him, trapping him in the moment he lost his mind.

He produces a coherent thought for the first time years after the event. Talon retrains him and he meets Subject Sigma for the first time. He likes this persona. He is strong, proud, and dangerous.

He has nothing to be afraid of anymore. He has harnessed the harness.

* * *

Voices mutter nervously nearby. He feels his blood coursing through his veins, hot with restrained intent.

"Mobilize the containment unit Torbjörn was working on."

"I'm not sure it's quite ready..."

"It's too late now, we have to prioritize his and our safety."

"No more cages."

"Stand down big guy. Your commander has made his decision."

Sigma clenches his fists and slowly opens his eyes. Roadhog is right, he doesn't want to be in a cage anymore.

He sees blurry figures on the other side of a blue, hexagonal field surround him. He's still in the bathroom, but levitating now. The plush toys spin playfully around him in the air.

"Mercy, get behind me. Move slowly. Everyone, clear out into the hallway."

The wary voice sounds directed toward him. A dark mass stands in the bathroom doorway beyond the energy field.

"Dr. Kuiper, stand down. There is no threat. It's just you and me."

Sigma feels angry. Where did Roadhog go? He hears a piano sound and his eyes flick towards it. They land on the two knobs that control the bathtub faucet. He extends his hand and harnesses a force to begin ripping them out of the wall.

"Sigma. Stop. Stand down." The voice growls more urgently.

Sigma hears telsa coils sparking and powering up on the other side of the field.

The metal knobs whine and ceramic tile crumbles. Water starts spraying from the wall, collecting around the edge of the barrier. "Winston." The metal warps as it's wrenched from the wall and Sigma clenches his fist to form the knobs into the general shape of his stolen hyperspheres. "Can you hear that music?"

Winston stands to his full height and roars as Sigma yells and launches his makeshift hyperspheres at the barrier. It cracks after two more impacts.

"Cease!" Winston commands as his telsa cannon fire nearly drowns him out. Its electricity travels along the floor and into the tub, crackling through the water like wildfire through dry bush.

The blue barrier collapses under the pressure from Sigma's exploding hyperspheres. The metal reforms after every impact and Sigma is able to recall the orbiting forms to his hand each time. He cackles loudly, "What an impact!"

The water immediately is released beyond the confines of the bathroom. It continues to spray out of the damaged wall and it spills around the ape's feet. Winston screams as his tesla cannon electricity travels up his limbs and overloads his muscles. He drops his gun and staggers away from the door.

"You thought you could  _contain_ me?!" Sigma's voice booms with authority and his emotions literally rip the walls with the force of gravity. The bathroom door begins to crumble and the debris rises into the air and orbits Sigma's body. "I will not be caged again!  _Never again!"_

Sigma holds his free hand up in the air, consolidates debris by closing his fist, and then launches the accretion at Winston as the ape was just attempting to rise to his feet. He's thrown farther down the hallway and into the living room by the impact. Sigma floats menacingly after him, accruing more orbiting weapons around him like an intertwining shield.

"Stop!" A deep voice yells.

Sigma freezes, seeing Roadhog standing in the doorway to the hallway. The elements shifting around him in the air start moving more slowly, spinning gently like leaves caught in a dancing eddy.

"Mako! Can you hear it? The music flows through me..."

"You're ruining my place!" Roadhog barks.

Sigma shakes his head, unable to explain his train of thought succinctly. "The song, can't you hear it?" he asks desperately. Roadhog's tone makes him feel betrayed and confused.

Junkrat shoves Roadhog aside and laughs maniacally. "Finally! A reason to blow something up!" He launches a grenade that explodes a hole in Sigma's debris shield and the wreckage spinning around him speeds up again.

"You don't understand! You couldn't possibly understand!" The other items in the room start to shake and lift off, caught in the whirling mass around him.

Another grenade bounces off a flying object and implodes a wall. Sigma's influence weakens the remaining structural integrity of that side of the building, and sunlight begins to filter through the wreckage. As the another wall collapses, Sigma ascends outside into open air.

A crowd begins to collect below. Sigma can see Mercy and Soldier who had left to retrieve their weapons and the Valkyrie suit staring up at him in horror. A shorter man accompanies them with a large device that he wheels up as close as he can beneath Sigma.

Mercy's wings glow as she rises up off the ground to Sigma's height in the air. "Dr. Kuiper!" she calls over the sound of the swirling mass of objects and material separating them. "You are not in any danger! Let us help you!"

Sigma scoffs at her weak attempt of a distraction. He knows they're trying to prepare the device on the ground to capture him.

They simply don't understand that he cannot be stopped.

He laughs, "You are all so  _predictable!"_ He punctuates the insult with another, larger accretion. It slams into Mercy before she has a moment to react and she is thrown into the metal beams of a communication array tower. She is pinned there, unconscious for the time being, out of reach of her compatriots.

Others arrive in costume and a cacophony of voices fuels the chaos. A huge man in a suit of armor swings a giant hammer, sending a comet of fire towards him, but Sigma dodges it in the air deftly and it only eliminates some of his satellite shield.

A sharp pain in his shoulder reveals he's been hit with a surprising object: a knife-sharp icicle imbeds itself and rips open his flesh. He cries out in pain and knocks the offender off her feet with his hyperspheres.

The pain reignites his fury and he hears that dreadful song once again. The haunting melody crescendos in his head, drowning everything out.  _"Het universum zingt voor mij!"_

Sigma pulls on the harness with his hand, raising it up in the air with a clenched fist. Several onlookers and assailants below are ripped off their feet and held suspended in midair. He hears someone screaming distantly.

"No one escapes gravity!" he yells, embracing the melody at long last.

But just as he is about to release the gravitic flux, he loses his grip on the harness and is whipped around. The victims of the flux fall to the ground without extra impacting force and his satellite shield crumbles, raining down from the sky.

The hook clasped neatly around his waist spins him back towards the half-collapsed building and he's yanked violently in that direction with strength he's never felt before.

_"C'mere,"_ Roadhog snarls.

Before Sigma can react, Roadhog yanks him as close as possible to the edge of the crumbling wreckage he's perched on, and cracks his closed fist across Sigma's sharp cheekbone.

The punch knocks him clean out. He is returned to the encompassing darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Sigma's fantastic cinematic and Master Ian Gamer's theory about Sigma's split personality.


	7. Chapter 7

Sigma wakes slowly. The first thing he notices is the tight white band across his upper arms and chest. It's a restraint keeping him held down to his bed. It immediately dampers his mood.

The next thing he notices is that he's in his original cell on Watchpoint Gibraltar, but the chalkboard and books have been removed.

He sighs. He can't use them now anyway.

Sigma turns his head to the side and watches the seagulls float lazily on the ocean breeze. He can't see the ocean from his vantage point, so they look like they're flying in an endless sky.

He tries to meditate on this thought.

Time crawls. Music creeps back into his head, but he doesn't fight it anymore; He's just too tired now.

Some time later in the day, the door to his cell opens gently. He sees a dark-haired head peek around it.

"Ah good, you're up." The man enters the room and closes the door behind him gently again. He has dark skin and a handsome smile. "Hello," he offers awkwardly.

Sigma doesn't respond. He simply watches the man place his meal tray on the sidetable next to his water pitcher with his head leaned back on the pillows.

"Dr. Kuiper, nice to meet you. I'm Dr. Augustin, but you can call me Baptiste. I'm filling in as your caretaker for Dr. Ziegler. Is there anything I can do for you today?"

Sigma looks him up and down with bored, half lidded eyes. "You can start with removing this restraint so I may enjoy my meal with some dignity. Or have you been instructed to spoon feed me?"

"Ah, yes." Baptiste steps out of the room for a moment and returns with a clipboard. He flips the first two pages up and down. "Nope, you are good to go without the restraint. Let me get that for you." He holds the clipboard under his arm and squats down next to the bed.

After a moment, the pressure on his torso is relieved and Sigma sits up straight with a satisfying deep breath.

Baptiste looks through the paperwork again. "Now, I have to ask you some questions." He pats his shirt and pants pockets for a pen. He produces one and clicks it, preparing to write. "Do you remember what happened yesterday? The reason why you were restrained to your bed?"

Sigma slides his legs off the side of the bed and sits there, staring at the floor. "Yes."

Baptiste pauses. "Has anything like that ever happened to you before?"

"Yes."

"Do you believe it could happen again?"

Sigma looks up at Baptiste under furrowed brows. "Yes."

Baptiste finishes writing and looks up, unfazed. "How do you feel about psychoanalytical therapy?"

"Conducted by Mercy or someone else?"

"That has yet to be determined, but if you have a preference, I can make note."

Sigma stares at the ground with indignation. The dissection of his mind begins. "Yes, Mercy."

Baptiste nods and writes. "No promises, but I'll let them know. Okay, lastly, have you ever been officially diagnosed since the incident on the space station?"

"Um." Sigma wasn't aware the  _incident_ was common knowledge. "If I was during the time I spent in the hospital afterwards... I would have been unable to be made aware." He clears his throat.

"Alrighty." Baptiste makes his last note before clicking the pen again and crossing his arms, tucking the clipboard under one. "Official stuff done. Real talk now."

Sigma looks up curiously.

"Seriously, are you okay? You had a lot of people scared here, even worried."

Sigma scoffs. "Spare me."

Baptiste watches him. "Talon isn't going to just let you walk away, you know. Trust me."

"Let them do their worst."

"You are safe here, Dr. Kuiper," Baptiste continues patiently. "Overwatch can protect you from Talon, like they've protected me."

"Oh, I am well aware it is in Overwatch's best interest to keep my mind out of Talon's hands. They'd rather enclose me in this little box, like some specimen or pet."

Baptiste shakes his head. "Don't let Talon influence you. Everything they ever told you was, in some form, a lie. They will say anything to keep you under their thumb. It's not like that here."

"Yes, well. If you don't have any more questions for me." Sigma grabs his meal tray and sits back up against the pillows.

_ "_ _Dakò._ I'll be back later."

"Can you please return with some books? Or something? It's torture to be left alone in here with my thoughts."

"You got it." Baptiste slips out and Sigma tries to keep his mind blank while he eats.

Later, he paces the room for a while, mulling over the events of the day previous.

It felt good to let go, to release the anger he didn't even know was condensed inside him. He never wanted to hurt anyone though... He cannot make sense of his actions that caused that.

He just wants to be left alone, free from containments and meddling organizations looking only to use him to further their own interests.

To clear his mind, he finds a new vantage point in his room. He sits on the floor in the corner between the window and mirror walls. He passes time by inspecting all the geometric forms in the space and calculating their area and surface area.

The day goes by slowly. The shadows grow larger and the light from outside dims. Sigma doesn't bother with the touch light. He pulls the blanket off his bed and curls up in his corner, mind thankfully quiet beyond the ever-incessant melody whispering to him behind his thoughts.

The door to his room slams open quite suddenly in the evening. It startles Sigma out of his mindless revery

"Dr. Kuiper! Are you okay?"

Baptiste rushes in, places the food tray on the bed, and kneels on the floor in front of him.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine!" Sigma grumbles. "For fuck's sake!"

"Sorry, I didn't see you through the window. I thought you'd escaped again."

"I could've just been in the bathroom." Sigma rolls his eyes. He privately wonders if Overwatch is aware of Talon's role in his previous "escape."

"Why are you on the floor?"

"I don't have a chair," he responds smartly. "What does it matter anyway?"

"Well," Baptiste sits back on his feet and rests his arms on his knees, "you'll get cold."

Sigma wants to feel grateful for the care of the young man, but all he feels is annoyed. "Just leave me alone. Go away." He pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulders and leans his head against the wall.

"Here, have something to eat at least." Baptiste leaves the food tray on the floor next to him and makes his exit. "I hope you feel better," he adds uncertainly before he closes the door behind him.

Sigma feels like a child, petulantly letting his food grow cold and hard before allowing himself to eat. He eats on the floor in the middle of the night. What dignity does he have left anyway? They treat him like a child, why not indulge in a child's lack of decor? There's nothing more they can do to him to break his spirit.

He gets too cold to spend the rest of the night in his corner on the floor. In defeat, he crawls into bed in the early morning hours, exhausted.

His last thought before drifting asleep is that Baptiste never brought him any books.

* * *

Sigma wakes up later in the day than he has since he was much younger. He finds the window facing the ocean has been dimmed slightly, so he doesn't immediately notice the white pillow on his bed next to him.

It's a plush toy with a familiar design. Sigma picks it up and smiles, remembering it's the same onion character that Roadhog collects. Underneath the pillow, a small digital book remains on the bedspread. The title reads _The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde._

He smirks later, understanding the joke after reading through part of the short story.


	8. Chapter 8

He waits for something, anything, to happen to him. His life inside the room is too dull to bear. Even despite the return of the chalkboard, his work doesn't satisfy him like it used to.

What's the point? He doesn't have a laboratory to test his theories, and any discoveries he were to make would be plucked right out of his hands anyway.

He often mulls over Baptiste's words, that Talon will eventually return for him.  He doesn't know if he'd take them up on another rescue attempt, but at least something interesting would happen to him either way.

His first visitor makes his whole day, despite the tense atmosphere.

"Clever book recommendation," Sigma offers to break the silence.

"Never read it. Mercy gave it to me to give to you," Roadhog explains gruffly.

"Oh," Sigma looks away. "How is she doing?" he asks quietly.

"Recovered. Mostly."

"That's good." He fiddles with his hands in his lap where he sits on the bed.

Roadog stands by the door with his arms crossed, rigid.

Sigma forces himself to accept the silence stretching between them. "Mako... I'm sorry. You took me into your home, trusted me... I don't know what came over me." He looks up to convey his sincerity. "I truly didn't mean to hurt anyone."

"I know."

Sigma nods. He always understands everything Roadhog leaves unspoken. "Where are you staying now?"

"Junkrat's." The dissatisfaction is heard in his voice.

"A change of scenery, at least." Sigma looks around his room for emphasis.

Roadhog doesn't react to the attempt at lightening humor.

"Will you... continue to visit me? I get terribly bored in here by myself."

"Okay."

Sigma sighs and rubs his eyes. "I've been locked up by so many different people... You'd think one would be used to it by now." He laughs dryly. "I'm just... getting so  old. I feel like, I'm losing years of my life...that I can't get back." Sigma's voice lowers harshly.

He looks up at the hand on his shoulder.

_"Kaua e mate wheke mate ururoa."_

Sigma blinks curiously. He didn't even know Roadhog spoke another language.

"Maori proverb. It means, don't die like an octopus, die like a hammerhead shark."

Sigma always listens rapturously whenever Roadhog says more than two words.

"Hammerhead meat still quivers after it's cut. Octopus just gives up."

Sigma isn't sure what Roadhog is trying to convey about his situation. Should he try to leave again? Not to return to Talon, but to escape to true freedom?

Could that even be a reality for him anymore?

Sigma nods solemnly as he takes in the words for meditation later. He laughs suddenly. "I almost forgot to tell you, you have more than one nasty hook!"

Roadhog chuckles. "You deserved it. You owe me an Xbox."

"What's an Xbox?"

* * *

Roadhog visits him about once a day now. Sigma is really grateful for his attention. If he didn't have a friend like this, he'd probably end up spending more time curled up on the floor banging his head against the wall.

Baptiste cares for him like Mercy did, but not quite like Mercy did. He brings him food for every meal, but sometimes at odd hours, like Sigma is an afterthought. He doesn't hold it against him. He knows he's one of the newer additions to the medical team for Overwatch, so he probably got passed the responsibility down from those who had the seniority to refuse it.

Caring for him is probably a chore for anyone on the base.

But the next time he sees Mercy, he's overjoyed to see her seemingly normal. Although, he has difficulty finding the right time to offer his apologies for what happened the morning after Talon tried to break him out.

"Halloo!" Mercy's voice chimes as she knocks on the door to Sigma's room.

He stands from his bed to greet her as she opens the door. "It's good to see you again, Dr. Ziegler." He speaks with solemn sincerity.

Mercy smiles. "You as well, Dr. Kuiper."

Sigma can't tell if she means it.

"Hello!" Another voice booms from the room behind the mirror. A tall man peers around the corner of the door frame and waves at Sigma over Mercy's head.

"This is Reinhardt Wilhelm. He will be accompanying our appointment today."

Sigma looks him up and down disdainefully. The man is nearly as wide as he his tall. His shoulders are double the width of Mercy's. "Greetings!"

"Hello," he responds warily. Why is this man here? Does Mercy think she needs a bodyguard?

Is she afraid of him?

"I heard that you're looking for a change of scenery?"

Anticipation wells. "Most certainly."

"Follow me," Mercy smiles at him. He even gets another pair of shoes to go outside.

It's a warm and sunny as Mercy leads Sigma onto the outdoor catwalks. Reinhardt follows behind, loudly.

"Ah! What a beautiful day! Aren't we lucky, friends? I remember when I was first stationed here... It felt like a vacation!"

Sigma rolls his eyes.

Mercy leads them to a secluded spot near the edge of the cliff face overlooking the ocean. The sun is quite warm, but the breeze blows ocean spray intermittently. It's perfect.

Caught up in the scenery, the addition to their company goes initially unnoticed by Sigma.

"Dr. Kuiper, this is Zenyatta. He will be assisting me today."

"Hello, small omnic friend!" Reinhardt booms excitedly. He pats Zenyatta on the back and the omnic's levitating orbs jolt with the movement.

"Peace be upon you," the omnic greets.

Sigma raises an eyebrow. "Hi." He's skeptical that a robot could be useful for such an intricate exercise as he and Mercy are about to endeavor. Although, he must admit, he's fascinated by his ability to defy gravity. He hopes he has a chance to discuss this with the omnic later.

"Please get comfortable," Mercy requests.

Reinhardt flops out on his back in the grass at a respectful distance, appearing to sunbathe.

Sigma thankfully takes a seat in one of the clear plastic chairs he also didn't notice at first. Mercy sits across from him in another of the same chair and Zenyatta levitates next to her.

"If there's anything you do not wish to discuss, please say so at any time," she assures him as she prepares her clipboard and pen.

Sigma shifts uncomfortably. "Very well."

"First I want to discuss your life before the incident. What was your childhood like?"

Sigma winces internally. "Normal. I lived in a small village in the Netherlands until I was old enough to attend university. Then I studied in Amsterdam and began my career in astrophysical research." He summarizes quickly.

To be honest, he only knows the facts. He doesn't remember much from this time in his life.

"Your relationship with your parents?"

"My mother died just before I left for university. I stopped hearing from my father shortly thereafter. I assume he's dead now."

Mercy makes a face of concern and nods before writing notes.

"Did you feel confident on your own?"

"Yes... It was freeing to be away from them. I enjoyed that." Sigma ignores the inappropriateness of admitting to his lack of mourning. "I wasn't particularly close with either of my parents," he specifies.

"Who was your closest relationship after you left home?"

Sigma rubs his eyes. "The professor who supervised my thesis. I... don't remember his name."

"Did you have any other relationships since then?"

Sigma winces. "Nothing of note. Acquaintences."

Mercy blushes as she finishes writing and Sigma braces himself. "Your sex life?"

"Pass."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The notes app on my phone gets laggy if the chapters get too long.


	9. Chapter 9

Sigma knew this would be awkward, but he hoped it would be at least worth it. He's now beginning to think nothing is worth the pain of delving into his personal details in front of a stranger.

"My work garnered attention from several governments and organizations, but Lucheng Interstellar wrote the biggest check. They set me up in a laboratory in The Hague where I conducted my research under their supervision for about five years."

Mercy writes sparingly. Sigma assumes Overwatch knows all of this.

"I spent over a year preparing for an experiment that would be a culmination of years of research. Lucheng organized for it to be conducted on the International Space Station... But conditions were not ideal and my instruments malfunctioned. I woke up in a hospital after that." Sigma shrugs. Memory of this time is also fuzzy.

"How was your experience of our upper atmosphere?"

Sigma isn't sure this is a prepared question or if Mercy is simply curious. "I have made expeditions to the Horizon Lunar Colony on behalf of Lucheng in the past, so it was not my first time in space."

"Really? Did you ever meet Winston there?"

"I had no business with the genetic enhancement tests being conducted there, but I was aware of them. He probably would've been too young to have remembered me if we had met anyway."

Sigma feels nostalgic discussing this period of his life. He was in his prime then. His brilliance, properly funded, had exponential potential. Anything felt possibly back then.

Mercy reviews her paperwork. "We have reason to believe that the incident on the space station resulted in the creation of a minor black hole—"

"I don't believe I'm at liberty to confirm or deny that..." Sigma adds hastily. He feels nervous under the expressionless, watchful eye of the omnic staring at him.

"Is your memory of this incident troubling for you?"

Sigma fidgets. "Yes."

"Okay." Sigma knows they're going to end up delving into that experience eventually, but he doesn't look forward to it. Mercy continues, "Were you treated well at the hospital? Do you remember how long you spent there?"

"Yes, and yes, roughly," Sigma lies.

"How long were you there for?"

Sigma gulps. "About eighteen months, I believe."

Mercy puts her pen down and looks at him woefully. "Dr. Kuiper," she speaks gently.

Sigma feels unease creep in after seeing the pitiful look in her eyes.

"According to what we know, you were in a mental institution following the incident for... six years."

A piano chord lilts and Sigma freezes. "What?" The melody whispers to him in his mind. "Well that can't be right," he laughs desperately.

"Find peace my friend," Zenyatta suddenly speaks. He gestures to him strangely and Sigma feels a warmth flow into him from above.

The horrid music continues. How old is he? He can't truly already be in his sixties? His palms begin to sweat.

It goes unnoticed, but small stones around the cliff face begin to miraculously levitate.

"Talon didn't tell you this?"

"They... I..." Sigma's throat feels dry and he tries to swallow. He closes his eyes and the music becomes louder. It drowns out the calls of the seagulls and the crash of the waves far below. He holds his head. "Please make it stop..."

"Make what stop, Sigma?"

"The music... It's so loud..."

Sigma starts at the cool touch against his forehead, and resists the urge to lash out against it.

"Breathe," Zenyatta instructs softly, his voice much closer now.

Sigma focuses on the gentle pressure the omnic is applying with two fingers and tries to breathe consciously.

The melody lilts again before fading away.

When Sigma opens his eyes, he sees Mercy watching him with alarm and concern from behind Reinhardt who is standing nearby warily. Guilt washes over him.

He is a danger to those around him. There's something inside himself he cannot control... What if he hurts someone again?

"I would like to return to my room now, please," he requests.

"Certainly," Mercy assures him.

* * *

"Dissociative Identity Disorder."

"Huh?" Roadhog grunts.

"Mercy believes I may have mutiple personalities," Sigma admits shamefully.

Roadhog reclines in a large chair they wheeled into his room. Sigma lays on his bed with his feet crossed while they talk.

"Well you weren't yourself when you bodied Winston, I can you tell that much."

Sigma guffaws. "What are you saying? I couldn't take him normally?" He smiles at their familiarity.

"I'm saying all it takes is my hook to get you in melee range." Roadhog deadpans his teasing, but Sigma has come to recognize this sense of humor.

"Every time you've hooked me with that thing, I wasn't paying attention! That's not a fair matchup."

"We'll settle that another time."

"You're on," Sigma chuckles, but then grows serious. "In other news, I'm 62."

"Happy birthday."

"No, it's not my birthday," Sigma shakes his head with a small smile. "I have been informed that I spent some time... away, after the incident, that I don't fully remember. I'm older than I thought I was."

Sigma briefed Roadhog previously on the experiment that went wrong on the space station, but he has yet to go into detail with anyone. He hopes to keep those horrors to himself.

"Okay. So?"

"There are things I still want to do in my life. Places I want to see! I'm losing time..."

"You're not on death's door," Roadhog assures him in his deep, rumbling voice.

Sigma wrings his hands slightly. "I just want to get out of here."

"Then go."

"What do you mean?"

"Why are you still here?"

"You talked me into it! And Overwatch isn't going to let me leave now."

"You don't need permission to live your life."

Sigma understands the message. He is quiet for a moment. "Mako... if it all goes to hell in the end, will you promise me something?"

"Maybe. What?"

"Take me to see your home. Before I go out. Fuck everything else."

Roadhog stares at him with his blank mask eyes. "Yeah," he nods. "Okay."


	10. Chapter 10

"Do you want to discuss the music?"

"What music?" Sigma shifts uncomfortably in the clear plastic chair. He watches the sea birds float on the breeze in the distance to avoid eye contact.

"At the end of our last session, you said you could hear music."

Mercy has been very patient and gentle with him. She's quite good at exuding nonthreatening energy. It's usually difficult to allow himself to become vulnerable enough to open up.

"Oh, yes..." Sigma has never talked about this with anyone before. He wishes the omnic wasn't here. At least Roadhog offered to replace Reinhardt as the sessions' security. Sigma doesn't trust strangers with knowledge of any of his possible weaknesses.

"Sometimes I just get this song stuck in my head..." Sigma gestures and shrugs. He hopes he's coming off as nonchalant.

"What does it sound like?"

"A piano... or sometimes it's different."

"Do you hear it all the time?"

"If I think about it. I try not to think about it."

"It bothers you?"

Sigma frowns. It's not really that simple. "Yes."

"Is there a reason?"

"A reason for what?"

"Is there any particular reason why the music is upsetting to you?" Mercy is so very patient with him.

"No one else can hear it. I can't make it stop. Sometimes it's so loud..." Sigma rubs his forehead, feeling a memory of pain. He's not really sure how to explain this.

"Okay." Mercy watches him carefully. He presumes she's judging his body language cautiously, for her own safety. "When was the first time you heard this music? Do you remember?"

Sigma glances at Roadhog who stares back blankly. His masked friend is relaxing on a lookout bench at a polite distance. Sigma is unsure if he can hear the conversation, but his presence is comforting.

"I don't remember exactly. I know that I first became annoyed with how often it replayed in my mind when I was in the hospital."

"Your hospitalization following the incident."

Sigma stares at the ground. "Yes."

Mercy pauses to write something down. Zenyatta has thankfully turned his hollow gaze out towards the ocean, and Sigma feels a little less like a spectacle.

The weather is warm, but the sky is overcast. Sigma isn't able to discern if rain is coming. He switches his crossed legs stretched out in front of him and wonders how much longer the session will be.

"Are you comfortable discussing what you experienced when your experiment failed on the ISS?"

He has long anticipated this question.

"Specifically...?"

"What do you remember?"

Sigma sighs. He closes his eyes. "I remember... the first time I saw it. The singularity. It was a black speck that distorted light around it, so it looked like it was shivering. I felt... proud." Sigma opens his eyes and looks at Mercy. "That little black dot was the culmination of years of hard work. I had finally achieved everything I'd dreamed of."

Mercy nods, listening aptly.

His eyes unfocus as he continues. "And then things get fuzzy... My teeth hurt. I felt it pulling me in..." He adds quietly, embarrassed to admit, "I thought it was watching me."

Sigma pauses and he is not interrupted but for the cries of the gulls and the crashing waves.

"It tore me in half. I could see each half of myself with one eye looking at the other." The hair on his body begins to stand. "I thought I was dead."

He hears a distant echo of a piano chord, and he squeezes his eyes closed. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Alright, we don't have to—"

The music gets louder and drowns out Mercy's voice. He grits his teeth.

_Hold it together..._

Then Sigma feels the warm glow over his head again and forces the music out by focusing on his surroundings and deliberate breathing. He blows out a long breath and consciously loosens his muscles. When he opens his eyes, Mercy is watching him intensely, Zenyatta is meditating, and Roadhog is walking over to them.

"You okay?" Roadhog asks gruffly as he approaches.

Sigma rubs his eyes clear of any remaining moisture. "I'm fine."

"Done?" Roadhog asks Mercy, seemingly impatient.

"No, unless he wants to be," she says, looking back at Sigma.

"I'm okay, really," he assures his friend holding out a flat palm towards him.

As much as he wishes he didn't have to do any of this, he's privately grateful that he's finally had the opportunity for professional intervention. He hopes it's worth it.

Roadhog nods and saunters back to his bench. Zenyatta remains with his head bowed.

"We don't have to discuss it anymore, but I think you should consider the possibility that the music is a result of the damage to your mind that the black hole must have caused."

"Yes, that seems accurate," he agrees. He doesn't like to think of himself as damaged... but he knows his mental capacities are not what they were since before the incident. The difficulty tracking time, the insomnia, the impairment to his focus and concentration; it would have been nigh impossible to complete the same amount of research now as when he worked for Lucheng.

"However," she continues, "please accept that the music you hear is not an outside force acting upon you. Sigma, that music is you."

Sigma frowns. "What do you mean?" He's always thought of the music being the sound of the universe, tapped into by his mind when his consciousness was warped by the black hole, and translated into conceivable patterns by his brain.

"It's inside your head. The music is simply a hallucination. It can't hurt you, and you have power over it."

Sigma understands what's she's attempting to explain, but sees it as a shallow interpretation of what is happening to him. He nods anyway. "I suppose."

"The next time you hear it, try to ignore your fear and remind yourself that you are in control."

Sigma raises his eyebrows. "Good advice. Thank you, doctor."

Mercy calls an end to the session, appearing satisfied, and she leaves with Zenyatta. Roadhog walks Sigma back to his room.

Sigma shakes his head and rubs away his smile. "This 'mind over matter' stuff is pretty potent. I think I may already be cured."

Roadhog's laugh rumbles in his chest. "Trust her."

"I do! The process, yes, I trust it." Sigma nods disingenuously. "What with the doctor's magic words and the omnic staring at nothing every session, I'm sure I will be back to normal in no time."

Roadhog slaps him on the back and Sigma laughs hard, knowing his friend is smiling under the mask as he shakes his head disapprovingly.

* * *

That evening, Sigma spends some time under his touch light reading another book lended to him. It's relaxing for him, to allow his mind to stroll lazily along the pages and follow the story. It's a nice break from his usual intense thoughts of equations and theories, or worse, anxiety about his immediate future.

He can't forget Baptiste's warning.

The trivial conflicts and drama of the characters in his book are a preferable object of his attention than his own problems. He hums unconciously as he reads and let's part of his focus drift to levitating small objects around the room as he delves deeper into the story.

He looks up from his book later to peer out the window at the sky, expecting to see clouds as he rubs his feet together. His toes have become unreasonably cold. The full moon shines back at him innocently in the clear night sky.

Suddenly, in the darkness of his room, he sees the mirror window on the far wall fade opacity and become transparent.

Sigma freezes, heart jumping in his chest.

There's no one in the observation room. It's empty and dark.

"Who goes there?" he demands, attempting to ease his unreasonable fear. The damned thing is probably just malfunctioning.

Silence blankets the room.

Sigma lays his book aside and stands from the bed for a closer look. The floor is ice cold on his bare feet. His stomach drops as a nebulous shadow shifts beside where he knows the operation panel is beyond the mirror.

"Who is it?" He asks angrily.

"Hi, doctor," a quiet voice growls.

Sigma clenches his fists and desperately longs for his antigravity emitters. "What are you doing here, Reyes?"

"I thought you'd be happy to see me." The black blur stalks along the window and the dim touch light outlines the features of Reaper's white mask. "It's time to go," he growls.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Don't make this difficult, Kuiper. You don't belong in this cage."

"Maybe I do. Maybe I'm just a weapon to those who'd see me without restraints." Sigma worries in the back of his mind for the safety of the others on the Watchpoint base. He hopes Sombra hasn't been able override the security again.

"Who's putting those thoughts in your head?" As his eyes adjust, Sigma can see whisps of black smoke framing the mask. "Got a case of the Stockholm's?"

"What are you going to do? You can't just waltz under Overwatch's nose and expect to be able to force me to leave without anyone noticing."

"Let them notice," Reaper's voice snarls menacingly.

Sigma hates to admit he feels afraid.

"Then I suppose I don't have much of a choice. But I'm not going to let this be easy for you."

The door to Sigma's room clicks and swings open. Reaper chuckles, unmoving. "Good. It's more fun that way."


	11. Chapter 11

Sigma stumbles in the dark, Reaper muttering commands at him for direction and prodding his back with one ofthose hideous hellfire shotguns. His skin is slightly damp from the stress of the situation. Although he's mostly certain Reaper wouldn't shoot him, if only not to raise alarm, he's less sure of what will happen to him if Talon successfully extracts them back to their headquaters.

Would he ever see the light of day again? His mutinous, anxious brain imagines brainwashing torture or a lobotomy at the hands of Moira.

"In a rush, Reyes?" He hopes he's masked his emotional state well enough.

"Why? Were you hoping to say your goodbyes? I'd love a chance to reconnect with some old friends." The shotgun at his back clicks and Sigma gets the message.

He furrows his brow in frustration. Is there anything he can do to save himself without putting others in danger?

"All quiet so far," a voice remarks over some radio channel on Reaper's person. It sounds like Sombra. "Overwatch is so dumb. This is boring."

"Shut up," Reaper retorts with a hushed bark.

Sigma is shoved around the outside walkways periously. If he were to lose his balance, he'd have bigger problems than kidnapping and torture. He sees by the light of the full moon a familiar large bay door and comes up with a foolish plan.

Sigma stops walking abruptly and grits his teeth at the shove of the gun in his back "We can't go through there," he says, facing away from Reaper with his hands up.

"Shuttlebay clearance," Reaper requests over the radio quietly.

"It's fine. He's trying something," Sombra replies with a bored voice.

"No, the doors on the other side will not open. We'll end up back tracking if we try to cut through."

"What do you care?" Reaper growls.

"I don't want anyone to get hurt." Sigma keeps his voice carefully flat. "There's a path along the outside of the base along the cliffside. It wouldn't be on any of your maps, it's more like a trail. It'd be faster than weaving through hallways and we could circumvent the barracks entirely."

"Yeah, right. Let's prance along the edge of a cliff together. That sounds like fun. Keep moving!" Reaper jabs the barrel of the shotgun painfully hard into Sigma's spine. He yelps and stumbles forward and they enter the shuttlebay.

Sigma stubs his toes on tarp-covered storage cases more than once, despite being generally aware of where they are. His stress is causing him to be clumsy. The random objects in their path force them to weave around and move more slowly through the space. The uncertainty of direction allows him to lead a bit more and they head towards the back corner.

If this isn't where Reaper had intended they go, he doesn't seem to notice. They pass through a doorway into a small room and this time, Sigma intentionally runs into the junk lying around on the ground.

"Fuck!" he hisses as he kneels to grab his foot.

"Stand up!" Reaper orders. "Let's go!"

"I broke my toe, asshole!"

"I'll break your arm if you don't keep moving!"

Sigma grunts as the shotgun bruises his back again. He shakily stands and breathes hard as he starts limping across the room to the exit. Once inside the next building, he collapses again.

"I can't walk!" He holds his foot again kneeling on one leg.

The only response he gets is the butt of the rifle to his face. The force of the blow throws him to the ground. Sigma groans and touches his nose. His fingers come back slick.

Reaper squats down in front of him. "I expected a more exciting attempt to slow us down. All I get is this decrepit old man performance. You are pathetic." Sigma receives another blow from the gun to his face and this time he allows himself to adhere to instinct and curl up on the floor, shielding his stomach and head. "Now you can get up and walk like I know you can, or I can continue hitting you until you're unconcious, and then I will drag you out of here myself. It's your choice, Dr. Kuiper."

Sigma feels one of his eyes swelling and focuses entirely on keeping himself from whimpering in front of Reaper. He breathes slowly in and out, muttering through the blood on his lips.

"I didn't quite catch that," Reaper snarls, leaning in closer.

"Fuck you,  _rotzak_ , _"_ Sigma spits.

Reaper stands and kicks him in the stomach. "Stand by for manual extract."

"Oh? Getting a workout in? Good for you, boss," Sombra replies cheekily.

"Um, hey."

Reaper spins and fires the shotgun at the hallway behind him, but he misses where Roadhog's hook doesn't. Reaper is pulled right into the barrel of his scrap gun and his white mask explodes. Reaper's body disintegrates into smoke and slips away in different directions.

Sigma remains curled in on himself, his breathing now labored. He feels himself lifted off the floor gently and his long, lanky body is carried away in Roadhog's huge arms.

"Trying to steal my bike again, huh?"

Sigma coughs out a laugh and feels more blood slip out of his mouth. He leans his forehead on Roadhog's shoulder and shuts his eyes.

* * *

"Get healed!"

Sigma gasps as his body sings. How long has he been out? He sits up on a metal table and looks around wildly.

_"Dah hayfīdak."_

A short older woman sticks him with a needle full of golden liquid and he yelps at the sudden prick.

"Dr. Kuiper, how many fingers am I holding up?" a man asks.

"Four?" Sigma still feels disoriented. He touches his face and finds the swelling is gone.

"Can you tell me where you are right now?"

"Uhh... Overwatch?"

"Close enough. C'mon, walk it off." The old woman steps back and gestures for him to stand up off the table.

"We have to get a move on, doctor. Talon is here!" Baptiste scribbles hurriedly on a clipboard and then flings it into a metal sink. "Let's go!"

He follows the old woman out of the room as she grabs a long rifle and flips the hood up on her cloak.

Sigma braces for pain as he slips off the edge of the table, but finds his toe feels fine. He looks down and cringes at the dark smattering of blood on his shirt before running into the hallway to follow his healers.

The trio weave around corners and down underground hallways carved out of rock. Emergency tunnels? Dim morning sunlight shines weakly up ahead and they exit into what appears to be the Watchpoint's command center.

Sigma looks around curiously as his companions peal off in different directions. This space is also carved out of rock, but is structurally supported by metal plating and beams. There's an upstairs level that rings the center with a railed walkway. It leads into a glass-enclosed look-out room containing a chalkboard not unlike the one loaned to Sigma, as well as a table set up with a couple computer stations.

The lower level contains a ejection pod hanging from the ceiling, another chalkboard and table with a computer station, a whole wall of interconnected screens, and a large center conference table littered with papers and laptops. The surface is an interactive projection screen as well.

Overwatch agents scurry around in the room, some donning armor and suits in the corner, others speaking into radios and leaning over screens.

"All major security protocols have been overrided by the same encrypted worm virus, sir. Shall I verify the logs?" a young female British voice calls out.

"We'll have to do that later, there's no time now. Just try to reconnect Athena to the security mainframe."

"Aye, commander."

The second voice is more familiar and Sigma shirks behind the nearest chalkboard, hoping Winston didn't see him. He's not prepared himself to face the scientist again since Sigma attacked him mercilessly the morning after the last time the Watchpoint hosted Talon.

"Most personnel are accounted for. Is Ana back?" Soldier's voice calls out from one of the screens on the wall.

"I'm here, Jack. Where should I set up?" the old woman who cared for Sigma responds.

"We need eyes on third level carwash and upper deck shuttlebay," a woman answers for him from the conference table, tapping commands and dragging projected information around on its surface. Sigma doesn't recognize this operative, but he makes note of her dark skin and white dreadlocks pulled back.

"Baptiste, is Mercy with you?" Soldier asks.

"Who, me?" Baptiste turns from where he's assisting a young woman don heavy metal armor and a shield. "I haven't seen her. She's not with you?"

"All comms responding, we need the location of agent Mercy immediately," Soldier barks urgently. "Anyone copy?"

Sigma feels a heavy pit grow in his stomach.

"Back up, please," Roadhog's voice patches through roughly. Sounds of conflict in the background muffle his request over a fuzzy frequency. Sigma can hear explosions and high pitched giggling over the line.

"Reinhardt and Mei are on their way to you now," Winston responds, his finger on the station keyboardin the upper floor office. "Location of agent Mercy requested, anyone copy?"

"She's not in her office! Just checked!" a young man radios breathlessly. Thumping music can be heard over his line before it cuts off.

Soldier's line opens again. "Fuck."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rotzak = bag of rot in Dutch.  
> Dah hayfīdak = this will help you in Arabic.


	12. Chapter 12

Amid the commotion in the command center, Sigma quietly slinks back down the hallway he came in. He checks over his shoulder a couple times to see if any of the Overwatch agents noticed his retreat, but no one follows. Would they really just let him run around the base freely during a time like this? Maybe they're too distracted; Talon seems to be launching a full-blown invasion of the Watchpoint and Mercy is missing at the worst possible time. Sigma knew this was a long time coming, but why now?

This can't all be because of him, can it?

"Hello, Dr. Kuiper."

Sigma jumps. "Zenyatta!"

The small omnic floats innocently in front of him, having gone unnoticed again. "It is good to see you on your feet again. I hope you are feeling better." Zenyatta's forehead symbol dimly illuminates his metalic body in the darkness of the tunnel.

"Yes... I am recovering." Sigma has never actually held a conversation with the omnic and isn't sure what to say. He hopes to keep this short by not prompting him further.

After a brief pause, the omnic asks him simply, "Where are you going? A general assembly has been called." He tilts his head to the side slightly, mimicking human body language for clarity.

"I..." Sigma blanks. He can't say he's lost or the omnic will simply offer to guide him back to the command center, a straight shot in the opposite direction. To be honest, Sigma doesn't know where he is going. He decides to tell the truth. "I must join the fight against Talon. They may have captured Mercy."

Zenyatta hums. "Oh, Mercy... I understand. I suspected this day would come. Follow me." He gestures at Sigma and then turns to float down the hallway in the direction Sigma was headed.

The warmth above Sigma's head, whatever it is, also illuminates the tunnel further, and he has no problem navigating along behind the omnic. He feels a sense of peace and resolve wash over him between their silent connection. When they surface from the tunnels, Zenyatta leads them into a reserve storage bay. He approaches a slab table and removes a thick blanket covering the top.

"Now is your time to strike, Dr. Kuiper." Zenyatta turns to him after revealing Sigma's antigravity suit on the table in a new form.

The dark, metallic aspects of the components provided by Talon have been replaced with gracefully shaped gold plating and blue fabric. It looks inifinitely more comfortable now. Sigma runs his fingers along the shoulder emitters, once clunky black and white ceramic-plastic nodes, now soft gold aluminum and shaped like yin and yang, the center of each piece featuring a large violet pearl. He is in awe of the masterful handiwork.

"It's... beautiful. Did you do this?"

"I had some help," Zenyatta shrugs.

"But, why? How could Overwatch ever justify allowing me to be armed again? I could hurt more people..."

"Know this, Dr. Kuiper, the agents who contributed to this project assisted me with the utmost discretion, and did so with trust in what I've seen in you." Zenyatta continues through Sigma's stunned silence. "Our fates are entwined, my friend. I see your light in the Iris," he explains cryptically. "You are meant for greatness. Please accept this gift with grace and power."

Sigma shakes his head, not fully grasping the magnitude of this deed. "I don't know what to say." No one had ever gone out on such a limb for him, not even Roadhog.

What else about this omnic's power and wisdom has Sigma underestimated?

"Worry not, your task lays before you. All will become clear."

Zenyatta asists him in quickly donning the new armor and Sigma is in shock of its fluid range of motion. It is much lighter with cloth replacing metal. He flexes his fingers, feeling the plasma gas begin to circulate slowly inside the generator on his back.

"Float like a butterfly. Become one within yourself." Zenyatta opens his small palms and proffers him two new hyperpheres encrusted in gold-rimmed blue fused quartz. "And sting like a bee."

Sigma feels the large device on his back begin to churn faster now and the hyperspheres raise up in his hand. He closes his eyes and sighs as his feet leave the ground. "How can I ever repay you?" Sigma asks, blinking down at the omnic with severe ernesty.

"Walk along the path to enlightenment; Do not cross into darkness. This will be sufficient." Zenyatta clasps his hands and bows his head.

Sigma mirrors the gesture respectfully. "Thank you. I will not let you down."

* * *

Zenyatta gives him directions towards the center of the conflict on the base and leaves him for the assembly at the command center. Sigma follows the sounds of gunfire and destruction, latching onto his sense of determination as the warmth fades from his connection to the omnic.

All the anger he felt before when he lashed out at the agents of Overwatch, the power that coursed through him, he refocuses it in his mind, feeling a hot bloodlust for Talon rise up inside.

Everything has indeed become clear to him now. Baptiste was right. Overwatch never wanted to hold him back, they wanted to set him free. Free from Talon's influence and manipulation. Talon's ideology couldn't rationally justify weaponizing Sigma's power. It was all deception.

He glides over the ground higher and faster than he has ever been able to before, without having first lost control of his grip on reality. He hears the music now, loud in his mind, but it doesn't faze him like it once did. He feels in tune with it, as if his ambition and the will of the music have finally aligned.

"Barrier won't last forever!" Reinhardt cries out close by.

"Get behind me!" a young woman yells.

Sigma approaches swiftly. "Observe the barrier," he commands the two. Reinhardt's expression is hidden by his helmet, but he doesn't voice a protest as he collapses his shield at the last moment and takes cover behind Sigma.

Sigma stands at the woman's side as she swings a flail at Talon paramilitary troopers. It knocks their guns around in their hands and slams against their bright red face shields. Sigma launches his hyperspheres to knock a nearby trooper off his feet, but when three more take their place, Reinhardt lunges back in front of him with his rocket hammer. Bullets spark and bounce off his armor as he overtakes Sigma's barrier.

The fatigue is clear in Reinhardt's voice as he swings the enormous hammer, so Sigma extends part of his conscious focus to relieving some of the gravity acting upon it and Reinhardt's armor. The effect is immediate and the modern knight fells another slew of troopers in two more swings.

Sigma recalls his barrier and extends it across the battlefield to where he sees Mei becoming surrounded by more forces. Just as a wall of ice protecting her from gunfire shatters, the barrier takes its place.

"Dr. Kuiper?!" she gasps as he takes her side. She shoots icicles at the gunmen between wide-eyed looks at her company.

"Morn', Dr. Zhao!" Sigma brings his hand up into the air and then drops it, lifting four troopers up and then throwing them back down onto the ground.

Thumping music energizes Sigma as the sound flies by behind them. He drops the barrier and suddenly flies over the ground, surprising an opponent enough to wrestle their rifle out of their hands and then knocks them unconscious with it.

"Another drop ship comin' in hot!" a young man calls out, seemingly defying gravity as he skates along the wall high above their heads. The music follows him and fades with distance.

"Get that turret down on the catwalk! Ground units, reposition!" Soldier barks from overhead. He unleashes clip after clip into their assailants, providing enough cover fire for Sigma and the others around him to retreat and recharge their shields.

A loud whirring drones overhead and the dropship they were warned about hovers down closer. Torbjörn hammer's clinks loudly, but the sound is drowned out by the cacophony of the ship's blades as it nears. A door lowers from the back of the ship and a monster jumps out.

It slams into the ground like an anvil, hoisting two enormous heavy assault machine guns. The ground shakes as it lifts them both up and they begin to spin and whir.

"Give em' hell!" Torbjörn commands a Bastion model omnic and Sigma glances away from the mountainous assailant long enough to see the robot on high ground with the dwarf reconfigure and unleash a massive amount of ammo at the drop ship. One engine whines and bursts into flame, tilting the entire ship periously. The subsequent troopers jump out of the door on the back clumsily and fall in heaps onto the ground. Torbjörn points with his claw hand and barks another order as he and his turret open fire on the fresh meat. The omnic blankets the field in more fire, causing the Talon forces to split and run to safety.

Sigma flicks his barrier out in front of him reflexively as the mercenary tank suddenly opens fire on him with both machine guns. He nearly panics as his barrier is quickly melted, but then holds his hand out with his fingers splayed, using a kinetic grasp as he backs up.

"Find cover!" Reinhardt yells, diving in front of Sigma. The Talon mercenary walks forwards slowly, guns still spinning as he tear's into Reinhardt's barrier as well. Sigma feels his suit whir with potential energy as it converts the captured bullets into shields, flashing blue across all of Sigma's body. He takes cover anyway, watching carefully as Reinhardt safely joins him and his young lady squire in an elevated room carved into the rock.

Large column database servers lined up inside the cavern spark and zap loudly as the gunfire shreds the hardware.

"What do we do?" the woman asks.

Reinhardt holds his hand up to the side of his helmet, panting. He shakes his head and his disappointment is evident in his voice. "We wait for back up."

"Really?  _You_ are going to stand by and wait for back up?" she asks in disbelief, a laugh curling her words.

"Commander's orders! What would you suggest?"

"I thought  _he_ was our back up?" The woman gestures to Sigma with her flail weapon.

Sigma looks up from the other side of the opening in the rock. "...Hello," he offers sheepishly, sparks flying across the two parties' view of each other.

"Cheers, love! The cavalry's here!"

A petite woman wearing bright yellow leggings teleports next to Sigma. She spins two pistols in her hands and winks at his surprised expression. Sigma gasps as she blinks out of sight again, a trail of blue light leading out of the cavern. He peers around the edge of the rock wall as the gunfire stops and sees the mercenary tank reloading its weapons. Their spinning slows down as the red hot barrels cool.

The woman blinks around the monster faster than the eye can see, pistols buzzing as she pelts its armor with bullets. It swings its machine guns around trying to swat at her and growls in frustration. The pistol fire lights up around it like flashing lights until its helmet cracks and is blown off.

A billow of dark curly hair bounces down around the mercenary's shoulders and the man behind the mask yells an obscenity at his blipping annoyance.

Sigma doesn't catch the words out of shock. He recognizes the dangerous man and gasps in dispair, "Mauga!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow updates. We're nearing the end and there are a lot of different aspects I want to capture satisfactorily. I want the ending to be climactic and worthy of this story!
> 
> Also the OW comp season ends soon and I've been lowkey grinding. I'm happy to report I have achieved my SR goals in the tank and support roles! If you couldn't already tell, those are the types of heroes I play :-)


	13. Chapter 13

Sigma isn't partularly fond of this man, they've hardly ever exchannged more than two words, but he knows he's dangerous and it's going to take a lot to subdue him. The man is an unstoppble force without compassion or remorse. Sigma glances at his company and feels nervous at their private planning. He knows any engagement without extreme precaution will not go well.

He decides he must steer the fight, lest Mauga gains control of its pace and keeps them on the backfoot. With the shields he garnered from his kinetic grasp, he steps around the corner and attempts to support the teleporting agent's attack. He smashes his hyperspheres against his armor and when Mauga turns the machine guns on him, he blocks with his shields, his barrier, or absorbs the fire with kinetic grasp. This gives the agent time to reengage and spray fire at Mauga's back. They barrage the Talon mercenary back and forth like this like partners in a waltz. The conflict is energizing and Sigma hums to the music that sings in his ears, a manic smile cracking across his face.

Mauga becomes more and more infuriated. With a yell, his armour lights up and he suddenly barrels into the young woman, pinning her as he rockets towards a wall. Sigma gathers an accretion as quickly as he can and launches it at Mauga, knocking him off balance. The agent retreats, blinking away in blue light, and Mauga spins on him.

"Traitor!" he yells.

Before Sigma can respond, a voice interrupts him: "Mauga, stop!" Sigma's shields and barrier are depleted, so as soon as Mauga's attention is off of him, he falls back and allows Reinhardt to replace him on the front line. He looks up from safety behind Reinhardt's shield to see Baptiste on high ground looking crestfallen. From the sound of their conversation, he and Mauga seem to be having some sort of an emotional reunion. Sigma didn't even know they knew each other, but it makes sense. They must've both been part of the paramilitary forces.

"This my home now! This is my family!" Baptiste laments as Sigma tunes in.

"You told me you trusted no one else but me, that I was your brother! Does that not make me your family?"

"Don't make me fight you! I can't bring myself to hurt you."

"Then you will fall with the rest of them," Mauga spits coldly. His guns begin to rev up again and he takes a wide stance.

They don't get the chance to fire off before Reinhardt slams into him with a rocket charge and pins him against the rock wall across from the server room cavern. Mauga's weapons are wrenched from his hands in the process and he's left vulnerable in the sightline of the Bastion unit.

"Mauga!" Baptiste cries, jumping down from above with extra mobility from his large booster boots.

"No! Don't—" Mauga yelps.

_"¡Apagando las luces!"_

Sombra destealths in the air, knocking out all electronic devices in the immediate vicinity. Sigma feels the generator on his back powering down and he falls awkwardly to the ground. The Bastion unit powers off and Torbjörn's turret explodes, knocking the dwarf back and out of view. Soldier runs after him.

Reinhardt's hammer is now too heavy to swing, he cannot deploy his barrier, and the rocket propellants in his suit are inoperable. His squire cries out as Mauga takes this opportunity to tackle him. She runs towards their grapple, but her flail no longer retracts and drags along the ground uselessly.

Sigma pay no mind to the chaos, dread striking him like lightning. "Baptiste!" he yells, advancing past the scuffle between the two huge armored tanks. His hypespheres lay abandoned behind him as he helplessly watches Sombra fire Baptiste down in dismay. Her submachine gun cuts through his thin armor and he falls immediately, boots unable to assist in his escape. "No!"

Sombra turns as she reloads and waves at Sigma, now within melee range, but disappears in glittering purple light just as Sigma lunges at the space she had previously occupied. He yells in frustration and falls to his knees in front of his caretaker. Baptiste is unconscious, bleeding from multiple wounds across his body. "No..." he says again, voice breaking.

This wasn't supposed to happen. How could he have let this happen?

Talon turned on their own former agent and felled him without hesitation. Is this his fate? What will they do to him when they stop at nothing to capture him? Will they punish his insolence as severly? Or worse?

"Get over here!"

Sigma swivels where he's cradling Baptiste's unconscious body at the sound a familiar deep voice. A profound feeling of relief washes over him when he sees Roadhog stepping into the fight between Reinhardt and Mauga. Sigma watches him hook the Talon mercenary and pull him into his scrapgun. A single shot decimates Mauga's armor at that range and Mauga yells in pain.

With a surge of confidence, Sigma picks up Baptiste and heads towards where he spots Ana sniping from a safe position. She seems to be shooting friendly fire injecting the gold serum into Roadhog via her biotic rifle as he is fired upon by random parties of Talon troopers who begin to reveal themselves from cover without fear of the Bastion unit.

"Let's pick it up!"

Sigma feels a burst of energy course through him as the young man from before skates up to his side. He's got large dreadlocks tied up high on his head and a green backpack emitting a loud bass beat. This music mysteriously causes Sigma to move faster than he thought himself capable of at this age.

"Hey, I'm Lúcio!" the short young man introduces himself as he glides gracefully along Sigma's gangly jog.

"Dr. Kui— Sigma. I'm Sigma," he pants in response.

"I know! Everybody's heard of you, man! Is he gonna be okay?" Lúcio asks, looking up at Baptiste in Sigma's arms. He jumps up and skates along a wall for a better angle.

"I don't know," Sigma breathes hard at the unexpected exercise. "He's bleeding."

"Let's get you two healed up!" Lúcio swipes his hand across his headphone and the music from his backpack changes to something indescribably soothing. Sigma releases an inward sigh of relief as fatigue melts from his body.

Sigma and Lúcio circumvent most of the battle, skirting the edges to get to Ana's position, but just as they approach, Junkrat is flattened into the wall in front of them. He gurgles a laugh and then falls unconscious at their feet.

Lúcio skids to a halt just in time to avoid several small explosions around Junkrat's body. "Woah!"

Sigma protectively curls Baptiste closer to his chest and steps back, looking up to see what caused Junkrat's impact. A man stands up straight some ten feet away, hefting a giant gauntlet in one hand and unclenching a fist.

"You're next," the man growls. His gauntlet clicks and whirs as it powers up again, but just as he seems to aim his punch at Sigma, a dart lands in his shoulder and he collapses.

_"Nām."_ Ana jogs up to them, reholstering asmall gun beneath her robe. Her rifle is slung over her shoulder as she knelts next to Junkrat. "Help me with them," she commands Lúcio. "You," she looks pointedly up at Sigma, "get back out there! Go!"

Sigma gently hands Baptiste off to Lúcio, knodding at the immense authority the old woman exudes, and then makes his way back to where he lost his hyperspheres. The generator on his back starts up again slowly, and as it builds power, he feels lighter and lighter until he's floating across the ground again. He calls the hyperspheres to his hand when they enter his field of view and then whips around to behold the various fights going on around him.

Reinhardt and his squire have regained their abilities and are covering each other as they take turns wailing on a group of mercenaries attempting to surround them. Nearby, a huge wall of ice materializes, flinging a surprised trooper up into the air. Mei appears from behind it, freezing another trooper and dispatching him quickly after. The clinking of Torbjörn's hammer sounds off again from a different angle above and Sigma sees him and Soldier firing together again from the high ground. Roadhog's scrap gun can be heard exploding over the sound of other gunfire, and Sigma catches sight of him attempting keep control of it as Mauga cloys at his arms. They shake and jerk, grappling each other, locked in a matchup of immense strength.

Lastly, Sigma cautiously watches the man with the gauntlet from before stand up and rub his head. His dark eyes scan and meet Sigma's from across the battlefield. The man scowls, holds up his fist and starts walking towards him.

Sigma takes a deep breath and lets the chaos around him melt away in his mind. The sweet piano melody builds again and he spins the hyperspheres above his hand, humming the tune quietly. He feels power building inside as the gas spins faster in the generator on his back. The harness acting upon everything around him becomes clear to his senses and he flexes his influence on it.

He thinks of Mercy as he drifts across the ground towards his challenger. He hopes she will be proud of his control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This end note previously read "RIP Bastion Type F in the comments to pay respects" because I thought I'd written that Bastion exploded from the EMP, not the turret. Can you imagine if Sombra's EMP just made Bastion fucking explode?


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: graphic descriptions of violence and gore

The dark-skinned man with the enormous gauntlet seems to have it out for him. Sigma's never seen him in his life, but assumes he works for Talon. Has he become a hated enemy of all their agents?

He launches his hyperspheres as soon as he's in range, hoping to keep that gauntlet as far away as possible, but the Talon agent deftly dances away from their area of detonation. The gauntlet clicks and whirs again and the man snarls in fury. The rocket punch builds faster than Sigma anticipates, but fortunately he's able to calculate the man's trajectory and he sidesteps the impact.

What he doesn't expect is the man to change direction so quickly, launch himself upward with the power of the gauntlet, and clip Sigma's chin, sending him up in the air as well. Sigma's teeth clack uncomfortably and pain radiates through his skull. He catches himself in the harness before he falls to the ground and rubs his jaw as he launches his hyperspheres again. He understands now the Talon agent is waiting for that moment when he recalls the hyperspheres to attack, so Sigma takes a step forward when his opponent dodges them again, and intercepts the man with a return jab. He goes straight for the vunerable area between the nose and eye with as much force as he can muster, simultaneously flexing the gravity acting upon the man, and knocks him flat on his back.

It's the first time he's ever punched anyone in the face, he remarks in the back of his mind.

Before the man can regain his footing, Sigma shoots the hyperspheres again, this time at his head, and they land with deadly accuracy. Their detonation leaves the Talon agent reeling.

Sigma hovers over the man with the gauntlet and looks down his nose at him as the music in his mind swells. "Talon has no power over me now."

The man shakes his head and spits out blood. "The harder you fight, the more valuable you become. Every battle makes you stronger. You will fight for us, or you are nothing."

He honestly didn't expect him to respond. His words shock Sigma and he shakes his head, forming a retort, but suddenly feels ill. He backs away as the man with the gauntlet chuckles and sits up slowly.

"Give in. Overwatch has no future in our world."

Sigma's grip on the harness slips periously and he feels all the fatigue he felt before come rushing back into him. His muscles shake with exhaustion and he's beginning to think he's going to throw up. "What is this?" he demands in a weak voice. Sigma coughs as an orb of dark gas floats past him.

"Subject Sigma. It appears you've received some upgrades."

The man with the gauntlet, addressed familiarly by the new voice from behind as Doomfist, stands up straighter and smiles as he lifts the gauntlet and clenches its fist.

Dr. Moira O'Deorain steps around Sigma, inspecting his new suit curiously. She sprays Doomfist with a golden resource out of her right palm and holds her left arm casually out at her side, allowing the contraption in her hand to drain Sigma of some sort of energy as she circles him.

"You're looking stronger. Are you cognizant?"

Sigma gasps for air and loses his train of thought in Moira's mesmerizing stare. Her two colored irises distract him.

She scoffs. "Pity. I was expected things would be different since your care under Dr. Ziegler. Seems as though she remains incompentent in the psychological sciences. She should stick to the paramedical."

Sigma mutters in Dutch and flings a half-formed accretion at Moira. It takes most of his strength, but it's enough to at least knock her off balance for a moment. Doomfist lunges at him and holds him by the throat as she dusts herself off.

"Unhinged. A liability. I don't understand what Reyes sees in him."

Sigma scrabbles at the grip of the gauntlet around his throat, his toes stubbing on rock as Doomfist lowers him to the ground.

"I can take care of this headache," Doomfist responds.

Sigma's hyperspheres dance around his head and his vision becomes blurry. He makes one last attempt to grasp the harness as his lungs start to burn.

Suddenly, a loud impact shakes the ground near them and the grip on his throat releases. Sigma falls to the ground and gasps. His hair stands on end as electricity crackles in the air. He looks up just in time to see Ana lining up a shot, and then a dart of the golden fluid lands in his arm and he shakes off his exhaustion.

"He's become more than you'll ever know," Winston growls, standing between Doomfist and Moira with his Tesla cannon sparking.

"Not this circus act again," Doomfist retorts before powering up the gauntlet. He launches into Winston and they both fly across the ground, the ape barely landing into a wall like Junkrat.

Another shot from Ana and Sigma takes to the air again. He spins the hyperspheres above his hand and launches them at Moira's feet as she runs after Doomfist. Their impact trips her up, but she disappears in a puff of smoke when Sigma throws them again.

Doomfist uppercuts Winston into the air and punches him in the stomach. Winston's jump pack activates and he returns to Sigma's side, slamming down a dome barrier around them just as Doomfist fires shots from the knuckles of his right hand.

All the doubts he had before about his reputation among Overwatch have dissipated. He is fighting alongside the commander of the organization now, and Winston finally sees in him the man he truly is. The music in Sigma's mind carries on ruthlessly, but he is in tune with it, and beats back Doomfist with all of his power.

Between the impact of his hyperspheres, his influence on gravity, and Winston's Tesla cannon, Doomfist is forced to retreat. He uses the gauntlet to power himself to high ground and out of sight.

"Thank you," Sigma says with a victorious smile.

"This isn't over yet," Winston responds. "We can't let them leave with Mercy." His jump pack fires him off in Doomfist's direction and Sigma nods in agreement.

As he gazes around the battlefield, he determines the fight is coming to an end. Overwatch agents are working together to beat back the Talon paramilitary forces. Talon troops are retreating with their injured, and, to Sigma's surprise, Overwatch agents are letting them.

Roadhog has disappeared, but appears to have been victorious in his fight as Mei freezes Mauga and Torbjörn prepares the prototype containment unit. Reinhardt is escorted to safety by his young squire, and Lúcio supports their retreat.

Sigma's song lulls and he spins the hyperspheres in his hand, looking for what to do next. He's not ready for this to be over. He's still furious. Where is Mercy?

"Over here!" Ana calls out, catching Sigma's attention.

He approaches where Ana beckons urgently and she seems to read his mind. "Your caretaker has been taken hostage."

Sigma had assumed as much. "What can I do?"

"I need your help. Follow me."

Ana slings her rifle over her shoulder and leads Sigma through a side entrance to the shuttle bay. She motions for him to be quiet and they creep around storage boxes and tarps in the dim light. Sigma hears voices on the other side of the bay and tunes in.

"This isn't a game, Gabriel! Why are you doing this?"

Ana beckons and they crouch behind a large crate. Beyond, Sigma peers out to see Soldier arguing with Reaper from a catwalk above.

All the hair stands up on Sigma's neck when he sees an unconscious Mercy in a choke hold, a hellfire shotgun pressed to her temple.

Sigma's hyperspheres spin intensely, but Ana presses his shoulder down behind their cover and shakes her head silently.

"Poor Commander Morrison. In the end, left again to clean up all the mistakes of his minions. How inconvenient. Let me help you resolve this mess." Reaper takes a confident stance on the ground below. He cocks the barrel of his gun and Sigma's breath catches in his throat.

"God dammit, Gabriel, you were a good soldier. I trusted you! How did we end up here?"

Reaper throws his head back and laughs. The dim overhead light illuminates his lack of mask and Sigma feels sick.

Reaper has no face. Where flesh should be, all that remains is cold, smooth, bone. His eyes are empty and dark, and his smile takes on a sinister tone.

"You never trusted me! You think telling people what they want to hear is going to fix all your problems. 'I trust you, Gabe. You deserve to be commander, Gabe. I love you, Gabe,'" Reaper spits icily.

"I did love you!" Soldier's voice breaks. He sinks down to his knees above. "But I don't know what you've become. Get ahold of yourself! You're a monster!"

"You're pathetic. No wonder Victor left you." Reaper tosses Mercy to the floor and stands over her. "I wish this was you," he says quietly. He holds his gun up and fires.

"NO!" Sigma shouts, but Reaper was already looking in their direction after a missed sleep dart whizzes past his head. He stalks towards them, reloading his weapon.

Soldier jumps down from the catwalk and cleary hurts himself doing so. He crawls across the floor towards Mercy, mumbling through his tears.

Familiar music whirls inside Sigma. He feels his power circling him like a tornado.

"Kill him," Ana whispers as she readies her rifle.

Sigma smiles as he rises and floats toward his opponent. He'd like nothing more at the moment.

Reaper chuckles. "You look like an idiot. I thought you could be useful, but if you're gullible enough to be recruited by these pathetic bleeding hearts, I was clearly mistaken."

"Let's see if your heart can bleed." Sigma launches his hyperspheres at Reaper's chest, but the monster turns to smoke and floats even closer. Sigma tries to back away, but he's already too close to the shotguns.

The first shot opens his stomach and he gasps in immeasurable pain. He flings his hyperspheres desperately, but Reaper keeps closing the distance. The second shot burns like his skin is on fire.

Sigma throws up his experimental barrier and finally lands a hyperspheres against Reaper's naked skull. A crack appears in the bone and his stride falters.

Sigma sweats as his body struggles to repair itself. The process is sped up by Ana's darts of gold liquid, but it all makes Sigma feel sick, like his flesh is being ripped apart and sewn back together at the same time.

Another shot from Reaper's gun splatters Sigma's face with his own blood.

"I should've left you in your restraints and diapers! You are nothing but a confused old man!"

"You don't have any idea what I'm capable of!" Sigma shouts. He rises up higher off the ground as his generator whirs loudly. He grasps the harness acting upon a large storage crate and flings it at Reaper. It crashes to the floor, breaking open and spilling various instruments and contraptions across the space where Reaper phases through.

Another shot from Reaper catches the anti-grav emitter on his shoulder and he dips periously towards the ground. Reaper comes closer and shreds his foot with shotgun pellets and Sigma cries out, further losing altitude.

As more shots spatter his body, tearing through the soft blue fabric, Sigma feels Ana's healing darts losing the fight to keep him alive and he finally falls to the floor into a puddle of his own blood. He holds his hand out in a desperate kinetic grasp, but Reaper simply swings his shotgun barrel like a bat, audibly cracking Sigma's cheekbone.

"Why do you think you're here? I made you who you are. You serve Talon."

"Never," Sigma spits. He thinks of the hammer head shark as his muscles quake. He closes his eyes and listens to the music inside him, attempting to grasp the harness one more time.

"Siebren!"

His eyes fly open and he spots Roadhog standing in front of another entrance to the bay.

A small part of himself melts inside, and he feels at home. Sigma smiles. Roadhog will protect him.

"The pig," Reaper remarks. "Here again to save the day." A voice buzzes from a radio hidden on his person and his shoulders seem to lose their tension. "It's about time! Take the shot!"

Roadhog steps forward to hook Reaper, but before it connects, a sniper's gun echos through the bay.

Time slows. The smile drops off Sigma's face and his blood turns to ice.

Roadhog's chain hook clatters to the floor and Sigma watches in dismay as his friend falls.

This isn't how this is supposed to go. The music in his head strikes discordantly. Its pitch rises with the horror of the scene and Sigma takes no notice of the splash of biogrenade on his skin. As he regains his strength, he rises up off the floor, dripping in his own blood, never taking his eyes off Mako.

As if in slow motion, Reaper's haunting visage turns towards him with the likeness of a grin. The black pits of his eyesockets remind Sigma of the shivering black iris that was watching him on the ISS. He floats forward, mind flashing back to those moments of insanity.

He feels the music inside him swelling. It sings to him, like it's telling him what to do. He remembers seeing himself split in two, wrapped around that perfect little dot.

Sigma raises his hands, like when he cupped the immeasurable power of the singularity, and he looks at himself in his memory.

The other half of himself looks back, opens his mouth, and sings.

Reaper drops his guns, radio buzzing frantically, and his jaw cracks wide in a silent scream. He holds his skull and falls to his knees as the inside of his head slips into a pinprick void.

Sigma allows his other half to take over. The music guides his hands and his mind in harmony. He looks down at Reaper on the floor and inflicts all his rage on the creation of the black hole in the center of the man's skull. Cracks form on its surface and teeth and pieces of bone get sucked inside.

He closes his eyes and raise his hands up, as if conducting the crescendo. Tattered blue ribbons of cloth from his gifted suit flap in the pull of the black hole. Reaper is wholly consumed, and Sigma swipes his hands down and outward to conclude the song.

Everything becomes silent. Sigma opens his eyes and feels utterly alone. He blinks away tears and smiles.

The song stuck in his head for nearly a decade is finally quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been working on this on and off for weeks. It's kind of fucked up I guess. This story is almost over.


End file.
